A Million Little Pieces
by supernaturaldh
Summary: Dean’s past comes back to haunt him…and Sam may pay the ultimate price. Set preseason, and current season. A limp Sam, big brother Dean story. SNFA Round 19 - Best Chick Flick Moment RU
1. Chapter 1

**A Million Little Pieces**

**By: supernaturaldh**

**Summary:** Dean's past comes back to haunt him…and Sam may pay the ultimate price.

Set preseason, and current season.

**Chapter 1**

**The Girl of his Dreams**

When Dean Winchester was twenty-two years old, he met the girl of his dreams, or at least, at the time, he thought so. He had been on a hunt with his father, John, a salt and burn in Murfreesboro, Arkansas. It was an easy gig, one they had finished in record time. The two tired hunters had headed straight from the graveyard to Mallard Pub, a run down joint on the outskirts of town. Both hunters had a huge hankering for a cold beer, some hot wings, and a nice warm pillow to rest their weary heads against, and according to them, it would definitely be in that order.

It had been a long year for the Winchesters, Dean's baby brother gone from their lives for the last six months. The topic of Sam was never brought up, the reality of it eating away at both men on a daily basis. John's last words to his son had been voiced angrily, advising the eighteen-year-old to go, and if he left, to stay gone, and never come back. It was those words that had cut Dean to the very core, realizing that his father had shut his little brother out of the fold. Although the older brother didn't support it, he stayed with their Dad, and then had to watch daily as the anger and remorse ate the man alive. But John Winchester was hard headed and no amount of talking and cajoling from Dean was going to change his mind. According to John, Sam had made a choice, he had picked college and a new life over his family, and now they were all forced to live with it -end of story.

Dean Winchester understood his brother's drive to get out on his own. Hell, he had had the same urges when he graduated from high school, thinking he should do something else with his life besides hunting ghouls, ghosts, and demons. But in the end, he had made his choice freely, to stay with his father, to put his family first and hunt the supernatural. It also helped that he was saving others, giving his own life a strong purpose, a meaning.

While Dean understood his father, he wasn't so sure he understood Sam. He always knew his little brother was different from them, the kid never liked hunting, nor did he understand his father's drive to kill the supernatural. But then again, Sam had only been a baby the day his mother was murdered, killed by a demon in their own home. Dean had watched from the sidewalk, clutching tightly to his father, as the house and life he had known burnt to the ground, his innocence going up in flames along with it. He had been there when his father had fell apart, drinking himself into oblivion, and grasping at straws to understand what had happened to his wife. The memories were etched forever in his brain. In the end, he had understood his fathers driving need to find his wife's killer, to save the world, but Sam, he had never gotten it. It wasn't his fault, and Dean knew that. The kid was too young to remember his mother, or the life they had before she died. All Sam knew was that he wanted a normal life, a life he had never gotten to have, and it had broken Dean's heart when his little brother had left them to find it.

-0-

The young waitress shuffled to the table, face looking from John to Dean. The sounds of Bon Jovi blared on the jukebox, and engulfed the tiny bar. A small smile curled to her lips as she gave the sandy haired, green eyed man in front of her the once over. _Damn, he was hot_ .

"Hey there sugar," John said as he looked from the menu up to the waitress. She couldn't be any older than nineteen, and pretty much perfect. He grunted to himself, too bad he was old enough to be her father.

"I'll have a Coors light and some hot wings." The older man said as he smiled.

The young girl fidgeted from one foot to the other. "And…and what…what about you?" she stuttered out at the handsome young man in front of her.

Dean felt John's metal toed boot shove at his blue jean clad leg beneath the wobbly table, and his eyes darted across to his Dad. John waggled his eyes at him, motioning to the young waitress who was standing, staring at Dean. The young hunters head rose from the menu to gaze at the red haired, emerald eyed beauty that was looking intently at him. _Holy crap, she's hot._

"Well, hello there." Dean said almost bashfully.

"Hi….um…" she said sweetly, looking almost embarrassed to be talking to Dean.

John's eyes widened as he watched the awkward exchange.

Dean blinked, suddenly dumb founded as he stared at her perfect face. He wanted to order, but no words crossed his lips as he actually gaped at her.

John snorted. _Kids._ "He'll have the same," he said with conviction as he yanked the menu from his boy's fingers and plopped it back behind the napkin holder.

"Sure," the young girl smiled, never looking once at John, as she blinked shyly at Dean and then slid easily back out into the crowd.

"Holy crap, she's hot." Dean offered up, his father laughing at his words.

"I don't believe I have ever seen you speechless around a girl, but son, you looked absolutely dumbfounded right there."

Dean blushed slightly and rolled his eyes at his father. He strained to see through the dimly lit bar, eyes searching out and holding on the pretty little waitress.

-0-

The weary hunters ended up two blocks from the bar, staying at the Sunny Inn – which was definitely a play on words, the place was dark, and really just a ratty excuse for a motel on the outskirts of town. They silently unloaded the Impala and stowed their gear inside the sparsely decorated motel room. Dean immediately dismissed himself to the shower, and John flung his tired body down against the lime green bedspread, sleep the only thing on his mind.

John nuzzled against the pillow listening to the sound of the shower pounding on the paper thin wall. He grinned smugly to himself at the thought of his eldest. That had been quite a little display at the bar earlier. The raven haired waitress had really done a number on his boy. He smiled. He found it funny to watch how Dean had danced lightly around the conversation for nearly an hour, Dean almost appeared shy in the encounter, and well, that was definitely a first. He had never seen his cocky, self assured boy at a loss for words, especially around a woman - this one had definitely taken Dean by surprise.

Suddenly the bathroom door flung open, steam wafting heavily into the motel room. John watched as his good looking, towel clad son moved quietly around the room, pulling out several nice shirts, pondering which one to wear. He smiled to himself; Dean probably assumed he was asleep and not watching this little show.

"Wear the blue one; it brings out your eyes." John mumbled as he rolled his stiff body from his stomach to lay his back, brown eyes gazing smugly at his eldest.

Dean's eyes lifted to rest on his Dad's, another embarrassed flush crept across his face. "Really?" he asked with hesitation.

"Wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it son."

Dean smiled and nodded at his Dad. He slipped on his boxers, his best blue jeans, the baby blue dress shirt, and moved quickly back to the bathroom.

The scent of aftershave floated from the bathroom.

"So, what's her name?" John asked curiously, as he folded his arms up behind his head and gazed at the paint chipped ceiling.

"Brianna." Dean said gleefully as he stuck his head back around the bathroom door, large grin decorating his face.

"She got a last name?" John inquired as he rolled his head to look at his ecstatic son.

"Boyd, Brianna Boyd," the words flowed lightly across Dean's lips as he flipped on the hair dryer and grinned happily to himself in the mirror.


	2. Chapter 2

**A Million Little Pieces**

**By: supernaturaldh**

**Chapter 2**

**Could've Been **

John Winchester zipped up his heavy jacket, his brown eyes spanning the empty graveyard. He glanced over at his eldest; Dean's sawed off resting in the curve of his arm as his body leaned slightly forward to read the old headstone. They'd been looking to dig up and burn the bones of one Victor Fleming, well know antique dealer from the early 1950's and the current ugly poltergeist terrorizing Old Time Antiques just outside of Little Rock.

"So," John's eyebrows arched inquisitively, "You've been seeing this Brianna chick quite a bit, what's up with that?"

Dean's head rose from the grave marker to gaze sheepishly at his father, a slight flush spreading across his face.

John smiled.

"I really like her." Dean offered almost shyly, "I'm meeting her Dad tonight" he offered.

John was amazed; this little lady had certainly done a number on his son. The hunters had made their temporary home in Murfreesboro, Arkansas for the last six weeks, catching hunts around the area, and then going back to the run down rented room they were staying in just outside of town. Dean was gone every night, spending time with Brianna Boyd. To say the father was shocked was an understatement; his boy never took to a girl like this before. The kid was really smitten.

"Meet the parents huh? - Big step there, kiddo."

Dean's shoulders shrugged slightly, his gleaming green eyes saying more than words ever could.

"Yeah, well you be careful son, a girl like that can break your heart in a million little pieces." The older man mumbled as he pushed the weeds aside from one of the headstones.

"Yatzee, Dean said happily, "looks like ole Victor is going down." He nodded at the grave marker in front of him.

John grinned.

Dean rested his gun on the ground and reached over to grab one of the shovels from his Dad's agile fingers. He shoved the metal implement against the cold hard soil and swiftly flung it over his shoulder, dirt and rock spraying out behind him. His father joined in momentarily and they dug silently for a few moments, the only sound, the heaving of their breath as they worked feverishly to uncover the bones.

Dean jumped down inside the grave, John getting the salt, kerosene, and matches from his backpack. The young hunter's shovel broke through the old pine casket easily, and he grimaced as he took in the rotting bones of Victor Fleming. _Sorry dude, time for you to go._ He climbed out of the hole and took the salt canister from his father, thoroughly dousing the bones.

Suddenly the wind picked up, a large howl growing around them. John's eyes grew wide. "Well, shit, was hoping this dude was not gonna show."

The older man tossed the kerosene and matches toward Dean and grabbed up his salt filled shotgun, finger twitching eagerly against the trigger. "Come on you son of a bitch, show yourself." He growled.

The ghost wavered behind Dean just as he was pouring the kerosene on the rotting bones.

"Down!" John yelled with urgency.

Dean dropped to the grass, body flat against the cold ground. He had never disobeyed an order, and he was not about to start today. The gunshot boomed above him as his father took out the ghost with one large spray of rock salt.

Dean rolled quickly across the damp grass and instantly stood back up. The match sizzled in his fingers as he tossed it into the hole, the decaying bones of Victor Fleming catching in a bright orange flame of light.

"Another one bits the dust." Dean said softly as he gazed blankly at the fire.

Suddenly, John's heart ached with a heaviness he hadn't felt in quite awhile. _Sammy used to say that_. He blinked sullenly at the flames as they darted higher into the dark starless sky.

0-

"But Dad, I'm bringing him over here tonight to meet you; his name is Dean, Dean Winchester." Brianna whined to her father.

"Well, you're seeing way too him much of him; you're never home with us." Howard looked irritably at his nineteen-year-old daughter.

"Am too, you're just never home when I am Dad. I go to school, I work, and I have a life." The fire haired girl yelled.

"Okay, if this guy is going to take up all your time, then we certainly need to meet him."

The dark eyed man gazed unhappily at his oldest daughter as she moved quickly toward the front door.

"Isn't he picking you up?" He blurted out curiously.

"No, he's meeting me at the bar."

"I can take you," her father offered, attempting to make peace.

"Dad," Brianna rolled her green eyes. "We've been living here for three months, and you haven't taken me to work yet. It's only three blocks; I can walk."

With those words Brianna Boyd darted from the house, fixated on one thing, and one thing only, to meet up with the man of her dreams.

-O-

Dean sat happily in the corner booth of the Mallard Pub, beer bottle turning lightly around in his nimble fingers. Brianna had promised to meet him here tonight, she wanted to take him to her house, introduce him to her family. It was strange, but he actually wanted to meet them. _What was going on with him? _He had only known Brianna Boyd a couple of weeks, but in that time, he had been swept literally off his feet. _She is everything I ever dreamed of. _He smiled to himself, chugged down another large gulp of the lukewarm beer, and focused on the door.

-0-

The red haired beauty moved quickly down the street, bright smile decorating her petite face. She felt a light fluttering in her stomach at the prospect of seeing Dean again. She smiled warmly. She was falling in love with this stranger, this man she met a little over a month ago. She couldn't explain it. She was so happy, happier than she ever thought imaginable in this dreary little town. She hadn't understood why her step father had wanted to move here, but now, it seemed more tolerable. She shook her head silently, she loved her father more than life itself, but she was going to have to grow up sometime, cut the apron strings, and Dean Winchester, well, he was just the boy to make her do it.

She didn't bother to look both ways as her feet stepped happily off the curb, nor did she comprehend the city bus as it barreled abruptly down against her.

-0-

Fourteen beers and five hours later, Dean still sat in the corner booth at Mallard's Pub. He was numb now, a heavy knot resting in his chest. _Where was Brianna? Why didn't she show? _He didn't raise his head when his father's voice boomed against his ears.

"Dean…what the hell are you doing? We got a hunt tomorrow?" John Winchester slid into the corner booth, eyes taking in his drunken son.

"Huh?" Dean looked up quizzically with bloodshot, damp eyes at his Dad.

John's hard military heart softened and he looked distraughtly at his son. "Where's Brianna?"

"Sh…she…didn't ssshow." Dean slurred.

_Women…_ John's brows furrowed in anger. "Come on son; let's get the hell out of here."

John grasped at Dean's arms, tugging his intoxicated boy to his feet.

"No," Dean whispered. He fought against father's firm grip, arms pushing away as his body staggered forward.

John's large hands reached out to grab a hold of Dean and stop him from falling face first to the floor.

Dean's red rimmed eyelids looked forlornly at John. "But, D...Dad...she…she's the girl of my dreams."

"Uh huh," John said heatedly as he hoisted his eldest boy up against him, his strong arms wrapping tightly around the kid's waist.

The father heaved in a heavy sigh as he moved them both slowly toward the door. He nodded lightly at the bartender as he practically carried his inebriated son from the bar.

"Thanks for calling me, Joe."

-0-

**Okay, I know I am wicked. I know this to be a fact, so you don't have to tell me. I just had to get this story set up. Do not worry because, if you know me, Sam is on his way back in the next chapter. I have to say though; I did enjoy writing the John and Dean moments. Felt right sorry for Dean in this one!!! –supernaturaldh-**


	3. Chapter 3

**A Million Little Pieces**

**By: supernaturaldh**

**Beta- Kokoda2007**

**Chapter 3**

**Father Knows Best?**

John shouldered the burden of his intoxicated son as they both stumbled out the doorway and away from the smoke filled bar. He felt Dean's limbs going limp, and he glanced down to see his son's slack face. _Can't believe the kid drank so damn much he passed out. All 'cause of a girl…._ He shook his head in disbelief and moved his unconscious son up tighter against him. He side stepped quickly, tugged Dean along, allowing a middle aged couple to enter the bar.

The pair moved to the doorway of the pub hastily to escape the cold evening air. Their eyes cast a fleeting glance at the older man and his terribly drunken friend, but they were too engrossed in their conversation to pay them either much heed.

"Can you believe it," the blonde haired lady whispered. "She was hit by a bus. She worked here you know, served us dinner last week."

"Wasn't she the one with the red hair?"

"Yeah, Brianna I think that was her name."

"Poor kid, she was so young."

John stopped, eyes staring at the couple as they moved through the plate glass door. He hugged his precious burden up closer against his side. His chest constricted tightly and he shuddered in a large gulp of air. He watched as the door swung slowly closed, his mind racing furiously. S_urely that wasn't Brianna, Dean's Brianna. _ He frowned and clutched his boy tighter up against him, shuffling them both silently toward the car.

**-0- **

Dean's head ached like he had been hit by a two-by-four, pounding loudly as he tugged open his sleep encrusted eyelids. _Where was he?_ He immediately recognized the low rumble of the Impala and blinked against the bright sun glaring through the windshield. He moved sluggishly against the black leather. _How'd I get here? I don't remember getting in the Impala_? He glanced over to the driver's side, his Dad's face giving him a quick concerned glare.

"You okay? Don't throw up in the car." John said with slight distress.

Dean swallowed; his mouth feeling like it was stuffed with cotton, the distinct taste of excessive beer coating his fuzzy teeth.

"Man, I feel like crap," the young hunter whispered.

"Well I suppose so, drinking half the damn bar." John barked.

Memory flooded back to Dean and he straightened slightly in the seat, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose. _Brianna didn't show up? _

"How'd you find me?" he asked sluggishly.

"Joe- bartender called said you were drunk off your ass and I needed to come and get you. Loaded you in the car, cleaned out our room and hit the road."

"Oh," Dean whispered quietly. "Where are we?"

"On our way to Colorado, there's a wolfling terrorizing the woods outside of Aspen. Not good for the ski season, thought it was time we blew out of that little town."

Dean nodded slightly and crossed his arms, a sad frown ghosting across his pale face.

"I thought she really liked me," Dean mumbled more to himself than to his Dad.

John eyeballed his hung-over son, wishing he could take the hurt away.

"You want to go back?" The older hunter offered, "We're only a couple of hours out of town." His brown eyes darted from the road to Dean's face.

"No…no…I don't." Dean slumped dejectedly back against the passenger seat. _I remember now why I don't get too close, don't want a girlfriend, 'because it hurts too damn much. _A low moan emanated from his whitish lips and he closed his weary eyes. Thoughts of Brianna flitted through his memory as he drifted back into hangover oblivion.

John Winchester sighed and looked at his overwrought son. He had almost spoken up, told Dean what he knew about Brianna, the words still setting heavily behind his lips. He just couldn't do it. _ It would be better for Dean to think the girl just dumped him. _ John was a father after all, and he knew his son, knew Dean would feel responsible, would take the burden as his own. _ The girl walked in front of a bus for God's sake, nothing Dean could have controlled. _John shook his head silently and chewed contemplatively on the inside of his lower lip. His decision made, he pushed harder against the accelerator and the sleek black Impala barreled silently down the highway.

**-0-**

_Present Day_

Dean's lips curled up in a satisfied grin as he swallowed another gulp of beer. He gazed around the bar. He and Sam were in West Memphis, Arkansas, having just finished off a fire demon that had been causing havoc in the little town. Of course, they had found it, said the right chant, and sent it flaming back to hell. It had been a perfect ending to a long and difficult week.

He smiled to himself. This was just the kind of joint he liked, small, dingy, and yet large enough to get a good game of pool going and win some funds from the locals. He eyeballed his little brother who sat oblivious at a corner table, staring at the laptop screen. Sam looked exhausted, although he'd never admit it. Dean was well aware that this last hunt had taken a toll on his little brother. Sam had always been deathly afraid of fire and if it hadn't been for people dying, Dean would have turned the hunt down, told Bobby to find someone else. But Sam had said he would suck it up, get through the hunt if it meant saving innocents. Yep, the last week had been stressful on his little brother, and Dean knew it. It was his job to fix the problem- now- a few days off, a warm bed, some hot food, and Sammy would be just fine. He would see to that.

The older brother swallowed a large gulp of his warm beer, stepped determinedly toward the pool tables, and looked attentively for his first victim.

"Hey, you look'n for a game?" Dean's eyebrows waggled as he gazed at the half drunken man.

"Sure dude." The guy slurred slightly.

"Fifty bucks to the winner?" Dean questioned, fingers setting the beer bottle on the edge of the pool table.

"Works for me," the middle aged man smiled, nodded his head and began racking up the multicolored balls.

And here we go, Dean thought with a smile.

**-0-**

Sam felt someone looking at him and pulled his head from the computer. His fingers fumbled with the beer bottle as he glanced around the bar. Seeing nothing unusual, he chalked it up to exhaustion and relaxed back in the seat. His face settled on the black leather jacket, the intense green eyes laughing and shooting pool. _Obviously, Dean had found his next victim._ He smiled; the guy Dean was playing pool with looked like an accountant or something, totally out of his element in this bar. _Maybe the dude was just out to have a little fun. _ Perfect catch, Sam thought. He nodded to the waitress who was waiting on the next table, finger pointing downward to his empty beer bottle.

**-0- **

The dark haired man stood silently in the corner, eyes glaring around the bar. He watched the young man with the pool cue with excessive interest. The kid was nice looking, neatly dressed, not overly flashy, just a normal looking guy. He smiled to himself; this kid was all over this pool game. He sucked on his beer bottle and let his tired eyes wonder around the bar, looking intently at all the faces, checking out all the patrons silently. He shook his head, pushed back from the bar stool and swallowed the rest of his beer. He gave the pool game one last look, staring hauntingly at the green eyed player. A coy smile curled to his lips as he moved silently out the front door.

**Okay- this story is starting to move forward. Hope I have some of you intrigued and hooked. More to come -supernaturaldh**


	4. Chapter 4

**A Million Little Pieces**

**By: supernaturaldh**

**Beta- Kokoda2007 – My wonderful beta keeps me on track and fixes all my screw ups. You're awesome Kokoda2007!!!**

**Chapter 4**

**Always the Big Brother**

Sam's bloodshot eyes pulled upward from the computer screen to stare across the smoky bar at Dean, his older brother was still engrossed in a game of pool. He sighed. He was good at keeping watch over Dean; he had done it his entire life. He was trained to be the silent wingman, to keep his brother from getting in over his head, which actually happened more times than Sam could even count. He closed the computer and folded his arms against the table top, resting his weary forehead against them. He was so tired; he let his heavy lids close, the sounds of the bar going on around him as he drifted in a semi-concious state. He just wanted to go to find a bed and go to sleep.

Ah…sleep, the elusive thing that had evaded him all week; dreams of fire, and burning, and heat keeping him awake most of the hunt. He hated fire demons. He still didn't understand why he'd always been afraid of fire, but it was something he had struggled with his entire life. Dean always said it was because of what had happened when he was just six months old, the fire that had burned their house down and claimed the life of their mother. Sam, well, he had no memory of that particular event in his life, all he knew was that he was scared of the heat, the flames, and no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't overcome his fear.

"Sam?" Dean's voice pierced through the indistinct sounds of the bar.

Sam pulled his sleepy head up from its perch to gaze tiredly up at Dean's face.

"Come on Sammy, let's get out of here." Dean whispered softly.

The youngest Winchester felt a tight grip on his forearm as he was pulled from his seat to a standing position. He looked sluggishly at his big brother. He heard the laptop scrap across the tabletop as Dean grabbed it up, and he felt gentle fingers resting lightly against his lower back, holding him steady, nudging him slowly toward the front of the bar.

**-0- **

Dean's hands worked with precision, ghosting across the gun barrel, clicking all the pieces back into place. It was almost silent in the motel room, the only sound his movements and Sam's low even breaths. He had barely gotten the kid into the motel the night before, Sam passing out immediately on the bed, drifting into an oblivious sleep, a sleep his body so desperately needed. Now, some ten hours later, he was still asleep and his big brother was getting restless.

Dean had run out of things to entertain himself. He glanced up at the television, the adventures of Tom and Jerry momentarily holding his attention. He grinned at their antics; he had always liked this one. He kept the volume off not wanting to wake his sleeping brother – Sam needed the rest. He smiled at the memory that came flooding back to his mind, snuggled on a tattered old couch, in some ratty motel, with a five year old Sammy watching this very cartoon. Dean was always Tom, the cool cat, and Sam, well he was Jerry, the annoying little mouse. He laughed silently to himself at his little characterizations; it had always pissed Sam off. He grinned and quietly stowed away the gun cleaning kit. He stood, reaching for his jacket from the back of the chair. He scribbled a quick note to Sam, just in case he woke up, and headed out to grab them both some breakfast.

**-0- **

Sam awoke slowly from his heavy slumber, body wanting to stay sunken deep within the mound of warm blankets. He blinked tiredly, his knuckles rubbing at his sleep crusted eyelids. His head moved slightly as he pulled his long arms up from under the covers, stretching with a large grunt.

Dean glanced up from his Gun's and Ammo magazine at his brother. Sam had been asleep about fourteen hours straight. Dean chuckled at his disheveled appearance; he still looked half asleep. His green eyes sparkled as he watched the mass of brown hair nuzzle deeper into pillow, sluggish eyelids slowly blinking fingers knuckling at his eyes like a child. The kid stared wide eyed at Dean, flopped his hands down to the top of the blankets. He reminded Dean of a much younger Sammy just waking from a nap.

"Hey there princess, 'bout time you woke up."

Dean closed the magazine and stood, stretching his own limbs and popping his back as he shuffled to set on the end of Sam's bed.

"What time's it?" Sam asked sleepily.

"It's after two."

"In the afternoon," Sam looked stunned and glanced around at the small clock sitting on the nightstand. "I don't even remember getting here or putting on my pajamas?"

Dean's callused hand patted lightly on the top of the blankets.

"Yes sir, you took quite a nap there Sleeping Beauty."

"Sorry, man, why'd you let me sleep so long?"

"Just 'cause you needed it," Dean smiled, grabbing up a greasy bag from the tabletop and slinging it toward Sam's head.

"Got you some breakfast."

Sam pushed to lean back against the headboard tugging open the crunched up bag. His nose snarled at the stale, greasy smell wafting out at him and cringed.

Dean chuckled, "Okay, it was like three hours ago, it was good then." He offered.

Sam frowned, rolling his large hazels. _I'm hungry… _Pleading puppy dog eyes looked up at Dean.

Dean shook his head in disbelieve. _Can't believe he can still do this to me. _

"Okay, why don't you clean up and we'll go get you something to eat." Dean said wistfully.

Sam face beamed and he immediately jumped out from under the covers and made a mad dash for the bathroom. "Five minutes," he said enthusiastically, slamming the door with a thud.

Little brothers, Dean thought, a large smirk curling his lips.

**-0- **

The man stared from across the street, eyes fixated on the motel room. His stomach balled up in a tight knot, his breath panted out in uneven little hitches. He darted his eyes around the area taking in the busy parking lot, observing every thing and everyone around him. Looking, searching, and cataloging. This motel was definitely not in the best part of town. He settled back against the drivers set, focusing his weary eyes forward, watching the motel room.

**-0- **

Sam felt almost human after he had stuffed his face full of the meat and three at the local diner just three blocks from the motel. Dean had been amazed to see his little brother not only put away his lunch, but was stunned when Sam got not one, but two pieces of pie and wolfed them both down.

Rubbing his hand lightly against his overly stuffed belly Sam sighed contentedly, and Dean laughed. _Sam looked a lot better now – amazing what a little sleep and food can do._

"So why don't I go get us some beer," Dean suggested as he slurped down the last bit of the dark, black coffee from his cup. His fingers yanked up the receipt from the sticky tabletop. "We can hang out in the room. We got no where to go, and I for one would like to extend our little break at least one more day." _Sam needed it._

An unspoken look rested between them, Dean's face a mask of big brother concern.

Sam looked at Dean, hazel eyes contemplating his brother's words, his actions. _Dean, Dean, Dean - always the big brother._ He smiled. "I'll walk down to the video store and pick us up some movies."

"I can take you," Dean offered.

"Nah, I can walk, need some fresh air. Meet you back at the motel?"

Dean nodded in silent agreement. _Movies, beer – what more could a guy want-sides maybe a girl…_ He raised his eyebrows in slight interest as he made his way past the petite waitress and up to counter to pay their tab.

Sam shuffled happily out the door, eyes focused on the video store, long legs eating up the sidewalk.

**-0- **

Sam eyeballed all the videos, not sure which one he really wanted to watch. He knew Dean liked westerns, so maybe he would just pick up a couple of Clint Eastwood flicks - that would surely make his big brother smile. He stooped down to check the movies on the bottom shelf, fingers lightly caressing the cases.

Suddenly several videos fell from above him, showering down against his head. His hands darted up to stop the barrage from doing any damaged as he quickly gazed up, through too long bangs at the attractive girl standing next to him.

"Oh man, I am so sorry," she whispered, shocked features adorning her pretty face. Small hands grabbed uncoordinatedly for the video's and shuffled them haphazardly back into the shelf.

Sam smiled shyly. "Its okay didn't hurt one bit."

He grabbed up the remaining movies and stood, placing them neatly back on the rack as he looked down at his shoes then timidly back up at her face.

"So…which movie you gettin'," she asked quizzically as she smiled warmly at him.

"Ah….ah….westerns, my…my brother likes westerns." Sam brushed his bangs away from his eyes, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. _Can I sound anymore lame?_

"Me, I'm a sucker for love stories, you know, guy meets girl, guy looses girl, and guy gets what he deserves in the end."

Sam snorted. "Yeah, yeah...I guess those are good too." He smiled, a slight blush rising to his face.

The red haired beauty grinned at him, clutching the movie 'Fatal Attraction' in her dainty little fingers, a large smile curling to her lips.

**-0-**

_**Moh-ha-ha…I am wicked aren't I. Hope you like it and are sticking around. I see a lot of suffering on the way for both brothers. Should post another chapter by the weekend if anyone is interested and still reading this!! It is just rolling out of my brain and onto the paper. Gotta love it when that happens. Reviews are like candy, so give me the sweet stuff!! Denise**_


	5. Chapter 5

**A Million Little Pieces**

**By: supernaturaldh**

**Beta- Kokoda2007**

**Chapter 5**

**Define Normal?**

Dean glanced from the television down to his wristwatch, slight agitation niggling at his brain. _Gees, how long does it take to pick up a couple of freaking movies?_ He walked to the motel room window and tugged back the tattered curtain, staring out through the dirty glass. His emerald eyes glanced around the parking lot and back up the road. _No Sam. _He noticed the children playing on the sidewalk, and some guy sitting in his car directly across the street, nothing really unusual. He released the curtain and shuffled back to the bed, plopping down as the mattress creaked with his weight. He popped the top off his second beer and yanked his cell phone from the nightstand, his thumb brushing against Sam's direct dial number.

The door to the motel room suddenly flew open, Sam shuffling quickly inside.

"Well, took you long enough, Sasquatch."

Dean snapped his cell phone closed and threw it down against the bed, taking another gulp of his beer. He stared blankly at Sam. His brother's face was absolutely beaming, clear hazel eyes flickering with excitement, bashful grin pulling at his lips.

"What?" Dean asked curiously.

"I…I met a girl," Sam stammered out swiftly, a light flush rising to his cheeks.

Dean's lips snaked up in a grin, "Oh really…"

"Yea… She… she asked me to meet her at the coffee shop in like twenty minutes."

"Really?" Dean looked stunned. "Well she must be right up your geek boy alley wanting to meet at a coffee shop." Dean chuckled. "What's her name?"

"Sierra…" Sam shuffled around the room in a manic motion, grabbing toiletries out of his duffle and moving quickly toward the bathroom.

"Where's the movie?" Dean asked curiously, eyes darting to his brother's empty hands. He grinned and gulped down the rest of his beer.

"Oh," Sam's head darted back around the bathroom door, "I'm sorry, we kind of got to talkin' and I forgot."

"Sam…." Dean rolled his eyes. He laughed silently to himself at his animated little brother. _This girl must really be something 'cause Sam was certainly smitten._ He relaxed back against the headboard. He pulled another beer from the cooler, popped the top, and saluted the closed bathroom door. _Way to go Sammy!_

**-0- **

Sam held the faded green button down shirt up to look at it, slight frown adorning his face. He then thumbed through some other shirts in his duffle, flinging them all haphazardly to the carpet.

Dean watched silently, a mad gleam glistening in his eyes. This was too funny - he hadn't seen Sammy this flustered by a girl in a long time. Hell, he hadn't seen Sammy with a girl in forever, except Ruby, and that damn demon didn't count.

"Got a problem over there dude?" He swallowed down another gulp of the warm beer and grinned wickedly at his little brother.

Sam looked hesitantly up from his duffle, his face anxious with despair. "I…I don't have anything to wear."

"God, you are such a girl sometimes."

Dean chuckled and sat up. He shoved his beer to the table and moved to his own bag, yanking out a light blue dress shirt and shaking it out lightly.

"Here, iron this," he nodded toward the ironing board propped up in the corner.

"I dun' no Dean, not sure that looks good on me as it does you." Sam questioned as he reached out and took the shirt from Dean's fingers.

"Believe me, it looks good on you, brings out your eyes."

Sam looked stunned.

Slightly embarrassed by his own words, Dean's fingers waggled in the air as he motioned toward the ironing board.

"Or something like that – geek boy." Dean raised his eyebrows and turned around, bouncing gingerly back down on the wrinkled bedspread; he grabbed his beer.

Sam smiled, "Thanks bro."

"Bitch"

"Jerk"

**-0- **

Sam gripped the metal doorknob; his heart racing widely in his chest. He sucked in a large gulp of air, then swung open the door to the coffee shop, eyes spanning around the booths. He smiled nervously when he saw the bright green eyes gleaming back at him, the young girl tucked away in the back corner booth.

She moved her fingers in a slight wave, motioning for him to join her.

He scuffled across the dimly lit shop as the aroma of freshly brewed coffee assaulted his senses. He couldn't believe his luck, meeting up and talking to such a nice girl like Sierra. It had been a long time since he had talked to a girl, someone who wasn't a demon, someone who was absolutely normal. He eased silently into the booth across from her.

"Hey, wasn't sure if you would come or not"

Sam gazed at her through hooded eyes, long bangs draping shaggily across his face. He reached his hand up and pushed his hair aside.

"Well, here I am."

**-0-**

The next three hours were a bit of a blur for Sam Winchester, his mind racing. He was all caught up in conversation with what could possibly be the girl of his dreams. The afternoon and woven into evening as the young couple talked. The crowd had slowly dissipated as evening turned to dark. The sidewalks were empty as the night coiled tightly around the town.

Sam leaned contentedly back in the seat, fingers gripping his fourth cup of coffee. He smiled warmly.

Sierra beamed at the specimen in front of her. He was smart, entertaining, and cute, she'd give him that. It had been a long afternoon spent talking, getting comfortable, establishing a relationship. The footwork, she knew, was half the battle. The shaggy haired boy had talked about everything from school, to movies, to road tripping with his big brother. It was obvious he knew the importance of family. He talked nonstop about his brother, Dean. Dean this, and Dean that. _Yada, yada, yada._

"I have to go to the ladies room." Sierra stood, excusing herself from the table with a warm smile.

Sam nodded, and stood up, gazing at the pretty red haired girl as a bashful smile brushed against his lips.

"I'll just call my brother and see if he wants me to bring him anything."

"You do that." She muttered silently to herself as she moved toward the restroom.

Sierra Boyd grinned. Dean Winchester was going down. He was not getting by with what he had done to her twin sister, not ever. It had taken her a long time to find him, years in fact, so she had plenty of time to contemplate how to make him pay, and pay he would. It was just stupid luck when she found out he had a kid brother, it was just too damn perfect. Yes, Dean was going to pay for what he had done to Brianna, to Sierra, to their family. The son of a bitch was going to grieve, and beg, and wish he had never met her sister. She was making sure of that.

Just out of Sam's line of sight, she slipped out the backdoor and around to her car. Opening the hood, she loosed the carburetor wires, and smiled smugly to herself.

**-0-**


	6. Chapter 6

**A Million Little Pieces**

**By: supernaturaldh**

**Beta- Kokoda2007**

**Chapter 6**

**Coffee for My Brother**

Dean's cell phone chimed loudly in his ear and he tugged open his eyes and looked around the wrinkled bed for it. He closed his eyes again, wishing his brother would just leave him alone, he was tired. He was thoroughly enjoying lounging in the room, drinking beer and doing nothing. The phone continued to ring.

Where is the damn thing, freaking…. I had it earlier before Sam left to meet that girl at the coffee shop….what's her name…Samoa? Santana? Sierra? Whatever...

His hands patted his body as it laid against the tattered bedcover; he glanced sleepily around, his fingers finally brushing against the vibrating phone. He flipped it open and yanked it abruptly to his ear.

"What?" he mumbled, eyes squinted, body still relaxed in his current beer buzz?

"Hey, how you doing, need anything?"

"Ah…Coffee, black," Dean mumbled then snapped the phone shut and dropped it back against the covers. He drifted happily in his inebriated state.

Sam rolled his eyes and shut the phone with a snap. _I knew he'd drink all the damn beer. _

Sam practically beamed as Sierra returned from the bathroom emerald green eyes gleaming and a bright smile resting on her face.

"I'm going to the restroom," Sam stood and nodded at the fire haired beauty.

"One more cup? Sierra whispered.

"Sure, that would be great."

"Okay, I'll order it." Sierra grinned brilliantly.

Sam shuffled slowly toward the bathroom giving Sierra one last subtle smile as he opened the bathroom door. _She was just great._

Sierra motioned for the waitress.

"We'll have the same as before."

The two cups of coffee were brought to the table. Sierra glanced around the diner then pulled a tiny vile discretely from her purse. She relaxed minutely; no one was paying her any attention. Sam was no where in site. She quickly emptied the white powder into the cup, stirred it with a spoon, and then slid it across to Sam's vacant spot.

She sipped on her own hot mug.

Sam returned moments later, grinning from ear to ear as he sat back down in the booth.

"So…maybe…ah…you want to do dinner tomorrow night?" he asked timidly, looking at Sierra through his too long chestnut bangs. He felt suddenly uncomfortable and glanced quickly back down to this steaming cup of coffee.

"Oh, I would like that," Sierra said eagerly. "Drink up, it's getting late. Us pretty girls need our beauty sleep."

Sam laughed, then nodded and pulled the steaming cup to his lips. He downed the entire cup in three large gulps.

Sierra smiled, sipping at her latte then sitting it lightly back against the table.

Sam motioned for the waitress again, "I need one cup of black coffee to go."

The middle aged waitress nodded and scurried back to fix the to-go cup.

"It's for Dean." Sam offered as he looked back at Sierra. He pushed to stand, his body wavering slightly as a wave of dizziness engulfed him. His fingers gripped the side of the table top with a vengeance and he shook his head slightly, staring blankly at the waitress who was thrusting a hot Styrofoam cup in his hand.

"You okay sweetie?" the middle aged woman looked curiously at Sam. He looked pale, all the color draining from his face. A concerned motherly face looked intently at him.

"Yeah, yeah," Sam said dismissively. "I think I just got up too quick." He nodded at the woman as he steadied himself against the side of the table. _I think I have a coffee buzz? _

Sierra released a heavy sigh as she nudged the waitress out of the way.

"We have to take care of Dean, now don't we?" Sierra's voice sounded shrill as Sam struggled to focus on her words.

He cocked his head to the side and looked at Sierra oddly. _Huh_ ?

The matronly waitress shook her head, kid deserved better than this little bitch. She smiled at Sam, rolled her eyes at Sierra, and slowly walked away.

Sierra flustered momentarily, and then giggled manically.

"Brothers and sisters are such a pain in the butt, but, hey, we love'm anyway, right Sam?"

Sam nodded his head slowly in agreement. Focusing on his feet and putting one foot in front of the other he shuffled toward the front door. Blinking rapidly, he attempted to clear his foggy thoughts.

"Walk me to my car?" Sierras asked sweetly as she tugged open the diner door. "I might even give you a ride home."

"Sure," Sam whispered, eyes twinkling slightly as shaky fingers clutched the 'to go' cup tightly to his chest.

Sierra smirked to herself as she led the way outside into the darkness, her navy blue Oldsmobile a mere shadow in the far corner of the lot.

**-0-**

Sierra turned the ignition over for the second time, but the car wouldn't start. The engine choked and sputtered. She gripped the steering wheel tighter and looked with large innocent green eyes through the driver's window at Sam.

Sam stood tilted slightly against the driver's door, fingers clutching tightly at the door-handle. _Boy, I must be getting sick._

"I'll just give it a minute, sometimes it take a couple of tries before it starts up."

Sam smiled weakly at her and leaned into the open driver's window. The parking lot commenced a slow spin around him. _I don't' feel so good._

"I had a nice time Sammy."

Sam looked at her with confusion. He blinked sluggishly at her and smiled. She looked kind of fuzzy, face wavering in and out of view.

"Sam, you okay? You look a little pale." Sierra's voice was light with concern.

Sam swayed on his feet suddenly, a wave of unexpected dizziness assaulting him. He gripped for Sierra's arm.

"Listen; why don't you let me give you a ride back to your motel room?"

Sam nodded slowly. _Dean, yeah, he needed to get back to Dean._

"It must be a bug or something," Sierra muttered. She opened the driver's door, and gripped Sam securely by the elbow, leading him around to the passenger side of her car. She hastily opened the door, and slid Sam's long legs into the front seat.

"Th…thanks…" Sam slurred, leaning his heavy head back against the bench seat. _What's wrong with me?_ He gazed bleary eyed up at Sierra who was standing in the passenger doorway crazy looking grin curling to her lips. _Huh? _

"Guess you won't need this." She said suddenly and yanked the to-go cup from his limp fingers. Flinging it to the ground, the lid popped off and the hot liquid swirled and pooled against the gravel.

Sam's gaze halted and shifted to Sierra's face. She looked different?

"Sierra?" he mumbled.

"And now the fun begins." Sierra said hatefully as she squeezed Sam's kneecap so hard that it hurt.

Sam winced, body flinching away from her taught fingers.

Sierra laughed and pushed him harshly back against the seat.

He blinked sluggishly. He saw Sierra's lips move, but her voice was oddly distorted and far away. He watched through half mast lids as she slammed the passenger door closed and walked to the front of the car. He saw her open the hood and fiddled with something, then, shut it with a thud. He heard movement next to him and rolled his head to look blankly at her as she eased into the car. His brow furrowed in confusion as his body grew heavy and hard to move. The low rumble of the engine reverberated to life around him as his vision tunneled toward the blackness. His last coherent thought was that Dean wouldn't be getting that coffee anytime soon.

**-0-**

Dean awoke slowly, the sound of the late night talk show drifting in around him. He nuzzled his cheek deeper into the pillow.

"Sam, turn that thing off." He muttered.

The television continued to play, no movement coming from the other bed.

Dean pulled his head up slowly from the pillow, eyes squinting at the television.

"Damn it Sam." He pushed to set up, swinging his legs around as his feet fell to the dirty carpet. His eyes peered through the dim light at the opposite bed.

His chest tightened. _No Sam? _

Adrenaline immediately pushed through his veins and he darted his eyes to the bathroom doorway, still half open, the small light bulb casting a light glow across the floor. He pushed to stand on his bare feet and took three large steps, swinging the doorway fully open to look inside; making sure his brother really wasn't there. _Where the hell is Sam? Did he come back? Did I hear him come back? Jesus, too freaking much beer….shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. _

He sucked in a steadying breath. _Okay, okay, stay calm. _

He pulled his fingers through his cropped hair, frown of concern pulling to his lips. He lunged across the bed and grabbed up his cell phone, lightly thumbing Sam's quick dial number. He listened as it rang and rang, and then finally rolled to voice mail – This is Sam, you know what to do.

"Sam, this is Dean, if you are shacked up somewhere with this Samoan, Santana, or whatever that chicks name is, you better freaking call me. Dude, at least let me know what's going on." he slammed the cell phone shut.

Sam would call. Since their time apart, his time in hell, they took keeping track of each other very seriously.

He slipped on his boots and began pacing back and forth, waiting impatiently for Sam to return his call. After dialing his brother's phone for ten minutes straight, leaving him every ugly message he could think of, he was overwhelmed. _God, he didn't know where Sam was and it was after 2:00 in the morning. God…please, not again. _

"Sammy, please call me…please. I just…I need to know that you're okay."

He could go looking for him, down to the coffee shop, but it was closed until morning. No one to tell him anything until then - he shut the cell phone, and sat silently back down against the beraggled bed, misty green eyes glistening in the dark.

**-0-**

**Thank you to Kokoda for the awesome beta job. Of course, I tweak it after she is done, so all mistakes are only my own. Now the story heats up, Sierra's vengeance, Dean looking for Sam, and just who is that strange man lurking around the edges…. We shall see.**

**Thanks for reading, please review – it's like chocolate, it makes me very happy.**

**Thanks for reading – you guys rock. - supernaturaldh**


	7. Chapter 7

**A Million Little Pieces**

**By: supernaturaldh**

**Beta- Kokoda2007**

**Chapter 7**

**Would a, Could a, Should a**

Sam Winchester's brow tightened in an unconscious frown. He felt funny, like his head was stuffed with cotton. His thoughts were muddled and confused. He wasn't aware of much, the jostling movement of a car, the light humming of rubber tires on asphalt, and the fuzzy glare of oncoming headlights as they bounced against the windshield. He pulled open his heavy eyelids, tugged up his weary head and tried to focus as he glanced around the inside of the vehicle. _The Impala? _

He noticed the world buzzing by the window at an alarmingly high rate of speed and he swallowed nervously. _Dean needs to slow down…._ He struggled just to hold his head upright against the cold leather seat._ I don't feel so good._ He wanted to push his too long bangs away from his face, out of his eyes, but he couldn't get his uncoordinated hands to cooperate as they flopped aimlessly in his lap. His hazel eyes blinked despairingly, mind sluggish and slow to grasp his surroundings. _What was going on? _ He had been leaving the coffee shop…_yeah, yeah, that's right_ . He had a to-go cup for Dean. _Dean? _

He tilted his wobbly head slightly to the side and peered through hooded eyelids at the hazy figure driving the car. He wanted to say something, tell Dean he didn't feel so good; ask him what was going on. He heaved out a shaky breath, reality slamming into him in a strangled mix of awe and apprehension. He blinked in confusion. _That… was…not… his…brother._

**-0- **

Dean yawned loudly and narrowed his eyes through the graying light. His left arm hung partially out of the Impala's driver window; the car moving at a slow deliberate crawl as he craned his neck to look around, nervous anxiety settling in his gut.

Still searching for Sam.

He had been looking for his little brother for the last three hours.

The morning sun was slowly inching its way above the horizon as he pulled the Impala into the empty parking lot of the Coffee Hut. He waited, fingers tapping harshly against the steering wheel - a staccato rhythm to occupy his mind. He wanted to ask anyone he could find about his little brother. Had they seen him? Did they know where he was? Who he was with? He sighed lightly, bringing a hand up to scrub unconsciously through his cropped hair as a million different scenarios ran rampant in his head. _A hunter, bent on revenge? A spirit they'd only thought they'd extinguished? A Demon? An Angel? Shit, shit, shit, the list went on and on. _

He swallowed convulsively_. _

It had been over twelve hours since he last saw Sam, eight hours since he had heard from him, a brief cell phone conversation that he now regretted with his whole heart. He should have woken up, talked to his little brother; asked him questions. He shouldn't have gotten drunk, and dozed on the bed. He should have been there for Sam. _Would a, Could a, Should a….hind site was twenty-twenty. _

His head pulled to attention as he watched the large station wagon pull into the parking lot. He gazed anxiously at the matronly woman who exited the old car and dashed quickly to the back door. She had that motherly look about her that reminded him of home and apple pie. He pursed his lips together and pushed open the driver's door moving frantically forward to talk to her.

"Ma'am?"

The older woman froze, fingers still clutched tightly to the key hanging in the door. She looked over her shoulder fearfully, eye-balling him suspiciously.

"Look kid, I ain't got any money." She spat out vehemently as she turned the lock and pushed hurriedly at the door.

Dean realized it was before dawn and he looked pretty rough. He had not recovered from his beer binge and now the long hours spent scouring the area for Sam. His arms reached out, palms open, bloodshot green eyes looking pleadingly at her.

"Please, I'm looking for my brother."

The woman nodded mutely still eyeing him suspiciously.

Mabel Finch had been working at the Coffee Hut for now on twenty years, and she felt she was a pretty good judge of character. She gazed warily at the young man before her; her stance firm as she stood half in the door and half out. _He looks nice enough, maybe he isn't a serial killer. _

"Your brother?" Mabel said curiously, her mother instincts overriding her immediate fear.

Dean gave her a shaky smile, "Yes ma'am, my little brother."

Mabel relaxed. _The kid looked beat, like he had been up all night long._ Against her better judgment, she dropped her guard and let a ghost of a smile flash across her face. She loosened her vice grip on the door.

"Well, come on in, I got to start all this freaking coffee going, you know, coffee shop, must have coffee."

Dean snorted and moved toward the doorway. "Thanks," he whispered wearily.

**-0- **

Sierra Boyd was very happy with her self. She had gotten Sam in the car quite easily, almost without any difficulty at all. _Boy, this guy was so gullible._ Her only dilemma now was how to get him out of the car once she arrived at her destination. Her hideaway, the place she would make one Winchester pay, all because of the other. She smiled wickedly. She knew there was a way to get him out of the car, and as much as she regretted it, _NOT_ ….it would have to do.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the shaggy head stirring as little Mr. Winchester decided to try and join the world of the living. She grinned to herself, time to dose him up again. She grinned intensely as she saw his unfocused hazel eyes looking at her in confusion.

"You okay there Sammy boy?" She muttered smugly as she swung the car off the roadway and into the rest area.

She watched as Sam's fingers floundered around for the doorknob and she giggled. He was so fucked up. She reached over the back seat and pulled the syringe out of the baggie hidden inside her purse. _Hope I don't give him too much; that would just be bad. _ She grinned, and then flinched slightly at the pain she knew she was inflicting as she stabbed the needle abruptly in the side of his neck and he whimpered. His failings slowly ceased as he slumped unconsciously toward the passenger door.

"Sorry," she whispered almost manically and threw the syringe out the window.

She punched her unconscious passenger once with her clinched fist, just making sure he was out, and then she revved up the engine and pointed the large Oldsmobile back onto the highway.

**-0- **

"Hang on a minute sugar; I got to start up the coffee." Mabel said with a slight smile as she nodded for the young man to have a set.

The tired older Winchester eased up to the first booth and plopped his weary butt down. He was beat, distraught, and he just wanted his brother back. His eyes welled up with unshed tears and he pushed them gruffly away with the back of his hand. _Don't have time for that shit. He was such a girl since he came back from hell._ He watched as the matronly woman set out to make the coffee. He sniffled, forcing the emotions he was feeling back down inside his chest. _He couldn't loose Sam, not now, not after all the crap they'd been through._

Mabel watched the distraught young man from the corner of her eye, trying not to look too obvious. His lost expression broke her heart. He was upset, she could tell that by the way he seemed to shore up his feelings, eyes blinking, nose sniffling as he sat silently in the booth. He looked anxious, and about on the verge of having a major meltdown.

She sighed and abruptly grabbed up a clean coffee cup, filling it to the brim.

"Here," she nudged the strong black coffee in front of his face and eased in across from him in the booth.

Dean nodded his thanks as his shaky fingers gripped the hot mug tightly in his hands. He shifted, weary shoulders slumping.

"So, tell me about your brother…"

Dean gazed across at the woman with pain laced green eyes.

"He's six foot four, brown shaggy hair, hazel eyes…" His voice faltered, "You'd remember him."

"Hey, I did see him, yesterday." Mabel offered up eagerly.

Dean sat the cup down with such force the coffee sloshed around the side and out onto the Formica tabletop. "Thank god," he whispered.

"He was here all afternoon with some girl. Man, she was a real bitch."

Dean's eyebrows shot upward, a concerned growl emanating from his lips. _I should have known. _ He sucked in a calming breath, and focused on the large women's face.

Mabel just kept talking.

"The kid sat here all afternoon with that…that girl. He was all goggle-eyed, but she, she was just calculating, I didn't like her. He deserved better."

"He didn't come home, did he leave with her?" Dean asked apprehensively, concern evident on his face.

"Yeah, they left here together." Mabel nodded. "Your brother, well, he kind of got sick before they left here. Looked a little pale to me."

Dean cringed at that knowledge, at the motherly eyes glaring disturbingly at him.

"Did you see them leave?"

"I heard her say she would take him back to his room. Then I saw the large Oldsmobile pull out a few minutes later, your brother was kind of leaning against the door, like maybe he was really sick."

"Do you know her, does she live around here? Do you know her name," Dean's words rolled heatedly over one another as he anxiously asked questions.

Mabel looked sadly at the young man. "No, I don't know her, but I heard him call her Sierra."

"Yeah," Dean mumbled, fingers fumbling unconsciously with the now tepid cup of coffee.

Mabel peered sadly at him. She reached out a hesitant hand and patted it lightly against the young mans own. A comforting motherly motion she had done her entire life.

"Let's warm you up."

She stood and grabbed up the coffee pot.

Dean gazed despondently at her, damp eyes no longer able to contain the moisture that was rolling silently down his cheeks. He sighed deeply.

"Awe sweetie, I'm sure you'll find him."

The matronly women stood wordlessly by the table wishing she could do something to help the distraught young man.

She watched as he immediately dismissed her concern, shored up his shoulders and sucked down the steaming cup of coffee in several large gulps, slamming the cup against the table. He hastily pulled out a ten dollar bill and forced it toward her fingers.

"Thank you." he voiced shakily.

"Names Mabel, Mabel Finch. You put that away, honey, your moneys no good here."

"Dean…Dean Winchester. My brother's name is Sam."

Mabel winked at Dean and watched as he pocketed the ten and shuffled slowly toward the exit. He stopped, hand resting on the doorway, and looked forlornly back at her.

"You go find that brother of yours – you find Sam -you hear me. And you bring him back here for some of my _special_ coffee."

Mabel smiled.

"Yes Ma'am."

Dean nodded slowly and gave her a wan smile as he eased out through the front door.

-**0- **

**Okay- looks like this little story is going to be longer than originally planned. I am home sick today with bronchitis- lucky me. So I just finished two chapters, but am only posting one. I appreciate all the wonderful reviews; they keep me focused and on track. So, if you like it let me know. Thanks -supernaturaldh-**


	8. Chapter 8

**A Million Little Pieces**

**By: supernaturaldh**

**Beta- Kokoda2007**

**Chapter 8**

**Just Plain Crazy **

The large Oldsmobile ambled slowly along the winding driveway toward the run down excuse for a house. The rotting wood and peeling paint doing little in the way of adding to visual appeal to the old dilapidated structure. The vehicle bounced heavily through the thick weeds and brush as it moved slowly around to the back of the building, before coming to a complete stop. The fiery headed beauty jumped anxiously from the driver's door and ran hastily around the car.

The dim morning light cast a bright yellow glow across the coarse decayed wooden door as Sierra struggled to get it open. Her gaze was fixed and determined as she leaned forward and fumbled with the rusty hinge using both hands to tug at the decrepit structure. It was a lot heavier than she had thought. She snarled, her face frowning in an angry scowl, as she made several fruitless attempts, and one unladylike grunt, before the wooden door finally flew open, falling with a loud thud against the dew dampened morning grass.

The abruptness of the motion almost knocked the young girl sideways and she wobbled unsteadily on her feet. With a glower, she pulled herself back up, and peered with purpose through the darkness and down the tattered steps. _This will do just fine._

She pushed back, her small bottom squashing against the passenger door, and rubbed her dirty hands against her blue jeans. Her eyes brightened with unspoken glee and she laughed giddily. Glaring through the window she gazed at the limp body still lounging unconsciously against the front seat. She would just stow Sam away down in the storm cellar. He would be out for a few more hours, so, she had plenty of time.

Her small hand gripped at the car door handle and yanked it swiftly open. The tall lanky body tumbled forward with excessive momentum as Sam lumbered solidly against her. She struggled to steady her stance, gripping agitatedly at his wide muscular shoulders as she started to drag him. _God, this guy weighs a ton_. As he pressed against her she reached inside his shirt pocket and swiftly confiscated his flashing cell phone. Hump, won't need that, she whispered, then chortled to herself. The fingers on her hands loosened their grip, consciously letting him go. Physically she gave him a hard shove into the darkness.

She watched as he toppled downward, spiraling headfirst down the stairs. She gave herself a satisfied smile as she heard his body thumping and thudding against every wooden rung, his loud groans and whimpers accentuating his accent. She cackled and tugged the heavy wooden door shut with a bang, enclosing him in the tomb. She moved the heavy lock back into the metal hinge and smiled as she leapt back around the car. She was extremely happy; in fact, she felt almost giddy, beaming with self admiration and satisfaction.

**-0-**

Dean looked around, silently watching early risers arriving at the Coffee Hut. He walked gradually across the parking lot, staring at the ground. He really wished he had more to go on than Mabel's vague answers. He knew the lady had told him all that she knew, and that info alone was making him feel pretty sick. Some psycho bitch had taken his little brother; of that much he was sure. He didn't have a clue who she was or why she would take Sam. His mind was racing back through the last couple of weeks, every hunt they had been on, every person they had seen. He was desperate. Sam had been gone well over twelve hours, and he needed help.

He yanked out his cell phone, and kicked angrily at the empty Styrofoam cup that rested on the gravel. Standing silently in the corner of the parking lot, he watched the to-go cup sail haphazardly through the air; the last reminisce of his patience going with it. _Where the hell is Sam? _

**-0- **

Bobby Singer's cell phone rang at the most inopportune times. He had both his hands full of groceries, body stumbling up the front porch steps as it once again vibrated loudly in his ears. He heaved out a disgruntled groan and dropped the bags gingerly against the stoop. _This had better be good._

He eyeballed the caller id and rolled his eyes. _ Idgit always calls when I'm in the middle of something. _He tugged the phone up to his ear, free fingers grabbing one grocery bag up from the steps as exasperated words escaped across his lips.

"Dean, look I'm right in the middle of something dude, let me call you back."

"Bob…Bobby."

The senior hunter stopped cold in his tracks.

"Dean?"

He heard another shaky sigh come through the phone line and he hesitated, a tight bind suddenly resting across his chest. He dropped the grocery bag down against the porch; a can of pork-n-beans rolling noisily across the creaky deck. He stood, silently, waiting for a reply.

"Sam…Sammy's gone."

"What'd you mean….Sam's gone?"

Bobby pushed through the screen door, groceries forgotten as he stood stiffly in his own dusty living room, mind trying to comprehend what Dean was saying.

"Sam's gone…he went on a date…didn't come back."

Bobby chuckled with relief. He relaxed; the idea of Sam Winchester going on a date, sleeping over, which was totally out of his character, but was feasible, was obviously freaking out his older brother.

"What? Sam went on a date? Come one Dean, he's probably just shacked up somewhere, the boy has needs." Bobby said with a light chortle.

"No…NO…Bobby, LISTEN to me." Dean stuttered out. "Sam is missing; he's not answering his phone."

"Give the kid a break, Dean. For Gods sakes, he spent four months trying to get you out of hell, distraught and lonely. I'm sure he just needs a little companionship, he ain't a damn priest."

"No…No….No….he wouldn't do this to me Bobby…not…not after."

Bobby gulped. He pondered Dean's words a moment. He could hear the anxiety in the kid's voice, the weariness in his words. _He was right, since Dean's return from hell; Sam had been stuck to him like glue. _ The older hunter pushed his ball cap back and sat abruptly down against the lumpy chair, fear starting to do a slow dance in his gut.

"Okay, okay, calm down Dean, tell me exactly what happened."

**-0- **

Sam felt annoyingly disconnected, dizzy, and out of sorts, and he hadn't even opened his eyes yet. He already knew he didn't want to. The pain in his head was unrelenting, an intense throbbing that radiated around from the back of his skull and throbbed right behind his eyes. A constant dull slap that did not want to quit. He struggled to fight the darkness; his lashes fluttering lightly against his cheeks before he finally managed to tug open his sluggish eyelids.

The darkness didn't go away though, just grew a little less back. He blinked and gazed at the light shifting of brightness somewhere up above his head. He could vaguely see the outline of his large size thirteen shoe dangling at an odd angel up above his head. _Was he upside down? Where was he? _

He blinked and moved his head slightly to the side, barely straining, he could make out that he was halfway sprawled against some steps, his head and shoulders resting on the ground. He shuddered uncontrollably. _How'd I get here? Why am I so cold? _ He slowly moved one arm, pressing his shaky hand against the damp hardness of the floor. _Steps, floor…room?_ He wanted to twist himself around, to right himself, but immediately regretted that decision. As a sharp pain stabbed below his kneecap and radiated up his body to mesh with the throbbing of his head. He pulled in a harsh breath and let his arm slump uncontrollably back down against his side. His wobbly head rolled against the ground as a loud agonizing gasp whisked quickly from his lips. Bright colors swirled in his vision, dancing and swaying among the waves of pain. His face contorted up in agony.

"Gah," he whispered through tightly gritted teeth.

He lay silently in the dimness, lungs heaving just for air. The pain continued to wash over him in large, unrelenting waves. It was too much, and his vision tunneled, his eyes falling slowly closed.


	9. Chapter 9

**A Million Little Pieces**

**By: supernaturaldh**

**Beta- Kokoda2007**

**A/N - Thank you to everyone for reading and reviewing this story. I am running short on time and could not get to everyone's review like I usually do, but know I appreciate them more than words can say. And now, lets have alittle more Limp Sam/Big Brother Dean, shall we...**

**Chapter 9**

**Strangers and Friends **

Dean parked the Impala back in the same parking spot, right in front of his and Sam's motel room, and sat silently in the front seat. The chilly air nipped at his skin, but he didn't feel it. His fingers were clenched tightly around the steering wheel, his teeth chewing unconsciously against his bottom lip. He tore roughly at the chapped skin; the warm taste of blood tingled on his tongue as he pondered the last couple of hours. He was tired, so damn tired, and worried, worried for Sam. _Where was his brother? _

"Castiel," he yelled, eyes glaring out the front windshield, anger bubbling in his chest.

"Ruby?" he yelled even louder, fist banging in frustration against the steering wheel.

Nothing….

_Freaking figures_ he thought heatedly. _Never here if you need them - those two are worthless. _

He stumbled out of the driver's door and fumbled for the key card in his pocket. He checked his watch, fourteen hours and counting. God, he had to do something, he couldn't take much more of this, he had to find Sam. He couldn't believe this, he could always find Sam. There were always, signs, ways for him to find his brother.

Not this time,

No.

Not a sole had known Sierra, not one person recognized her name. No one seemed to have any idea where she lived, and no one seemed to care. This was freaking worse than Cold Oak, Dean thought, and that time Sam was missing for over twenty four hours - and man did that turn out badly.

Dean shuddered with his thoughts.

He sighed and shoved the key card in the door, pushing inside the room. He would just rest for an hour or so while he waited for Bobby.

Bobby was coming, his friend, the closest thing to a father he had now, he would help.

They would find Sam.

He stopped stock still in his tracks.

His eyes focused on the pudgy man standing in the corner of their room, arms crossed, looking blankly back at him. His tired mind comprehended that this was definitely not Sam, hell it wasn't even anyone that he freaking knew. He sucked in a hasty breath and abruptly yanked his hand gun from its perch in the back of his tattered jeans and pointed it steadily at the strangers face.

"Whoa….whoa…" the man hands flew up, surrendering as he stared with wide brown eyes at Dean. "Don't shoot me, unfortunately, I'm here to help."

"Who the hell are you and what the hell are you doing in mine our room?"

The gun waggled in Dean's clasped fingers. His eyes strained a stealy blue, glistening with both anger and curiosity.

"I'm Brianna Boyd's stepfather."

"So…." Dean's head quirked to the side, face twisting to an inquisitive, thinking stare.

The gun was still pointed snuggly at the man's head.

_Name sounds familiar….Boyd…Boyd….Boyd….where have I heard that before?_

Howard Haley stood silently, hands complaisantly tugged above his head, hoping with all his heart that Dean Winchester comprehended who he was before he shot him in the head. Hell, he was just here to give the young man a warning, to advise him to be on the look out. He waited, and watched as slow recognition seem to dawn in the tired, bloodshot eyes. The hand gun wavered slightly.

"Brianna Boyd?" Dean's voice squeaked out in a low whisper; a memory slamming against him so hard that it took his breath away.

"Yeah…yeah, you knew her….remember?" Harold shrugged up one shoulder, encouraging the young man to think. His inquisitive eyes stared at Dean's pale, tired face.

"Brianna Boyd's father," Dean said with slight hesitation; the hand gun wobbling lightly in his fingers as comprehension slowly made its way through his weary mind.

"Step father, but I raised her." Harold said albeit shakily as he slowly nodded his head at Dean, making sure it was okay to lower his hands.

Dean's head waggled up and down as he nodded at the handgun and motioned that he still had it on him, but was stowing it away.

Howard relaxed, and shuffled on his black patent leather shoes. _Maybe this wasn't such a good idea? No, no, the kid needed to know._ He shored up his shoulders and looked Dean directly in the eyes.

"Howard,' his slightly shaky hand eased forward, "Howard Haley."

Dean glanced at the extended hand and back to the older man's face. He looked like an accountant or something, nothing really to fear.

"Dean Winchester." Dean's hand grabbed up the man's fat fingers and gave them a brief shake. He nodded toward the chairs and both men moved slowly to set down at the table.

"You knew Brianna, remember, couple of years ago?"

Dean pulled a unsteady hand up through his cropped hair and eyeballed the man despairingly.

"Yeah…I remember Brianna." _I knew her? Knew?_

Dean's curiosity peeked. He clasped his trembling fingers together, and rested his elbows on his knees. He looked curiously at the man. He really didn't have time for this shit. His brother was missing for God's sake. He wondered silently where all this was heading.

"Well, after, you know, after….well, her sister kind of had a breakdown."

"What…wait…I'm a little bit lost here, Brianna had a sister."

"Yeah, a twin sister," Howard whispered, "beauty, just like Brianna was."

Dean's eyes fixed a confused stare on the man. "B…Brianna was?" he said unsteadily. _What?_

Howard Haley watched the color seemingly drain from the young man's face and reality hit him ten fold right between the eyes. _This kid didn't know Brianna had died. Holy shit… _

"Okay, okay, maybe I need to start over," the senior man muttered as he pushed back against the chair.

"Yeah," Dean whispered, "that might be a good idea."

**-0-**

"I was married to Brianna's mom when the girls were only five years old; their Dad was killed in the Gulf War. It was really hard on the girls, when their Dad didn't come back home. Jack, well, Jack he was my best friend." Howard looked sadly down at his shoes. "I never adopted the girls, wanted too, but we just never got around to it, and then when they got older, they didn't want me to, wanted to keep their father's name to honor him."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Look buddy, get to the point here," he said resignedly.

"Their mother, my wife, died when they were eight years old, I raised them."

Dean nodded silently.

"That day…the day Brianna died, we had argued about you."

Dean's eyebrows shrugged in confusion.

"Brianna died?" he stammered out, his stomach flipping with the question.

"Yes, son, I am sorry…I didn't know how to get a hold of you, we never met…"

"How…when did Brianna die?"

"The day we argued about you, she was going to meet you at the pub she worked at, you know, The Mallard Pub, she was hit by a bus walking over…you…hey…hey…you okay?"

Dean's vision tunneled until all he could see was Howard's face. Little particles of sweat started to dot against his forehead as the room began a slow spin. He tried to catch his breath, to focus. He wanted to grasp the words that were being said, to understand the moving lips, but he couldn't seem too. He felt a stern hand grabbing at his base of his neck, as his head was forced downward.

"Breathe kid."

**-0-**

Dean raised his head slowly and swiped at the tears beneath his lids, suddenly realizing Brianna had not stood him up, not abandoned him, but been killed on her way to meet him. He sat silently in the chair for a long moment and stared blankly at the man in front of him, Brianna's stepfather, and the man he was going to meet that day. He felt physically sick; too much was going on right now for him to have to deal with this shit. He could see the man's lips moving, and tried to focus on the words as Howard continued with the story.

"I went to the bar, looked for you. Everyone there was talking bout it, but Joe, the bartender said you had left with your father earlier. He told me he was sorry, but all he had was your Dad's cell number. I tried it, left several messages, but no one ever called me back."

Dean's eyes widened. _Dad knew? No, no, no, no, no, that can't be right. Dad knew?_

Howard recognized the anger in the flashing emerald eyes. Obviously the young man's father had thought it best not to tell him about Brianna, for what reasons, he would never know. Father's kept secrets from their kids, that much he did know, hell, he did it himself all his life with his own girls. A stupid move, one he knew for a fact, was bad, but one that fathers did, to protect the ones they loved.

"So, I take it your Dad didn't tell you that Brianna died?"

Dean shook his head, blinking back the long forgotten tears, and swallowing the hard knot that had settled in his throat.

"I'm sorry." Howard gazed at the damp green eyes, feeling very sorry for the young man in front of him. He shook his head and sighed. "I just came to tell you to be careful."

"Huh?" Dean's head cocked suspiciously to the side, brows shrugging up in concern. _Be careful?_

"Brianna's sister, she's not stable…she fell apart after Brianna's death, she…she's been in several hospitals the last couple of years. She blamed you for her sister's death. I never understood it, still don't. Not sure how she came up with that scenario, since you had nothing to do with…you know, anyhow, the doctors all say it's real to her what she has concocted in her own head. She ended up having to stay in the mental hospital, that's until last month, when she got out."

Everything fell into place in Dean's thoughts and anger bubbled in his gut. He leaned in so close to Howard Haley's face he could feel the stale expulsion of air against his tensing cheek. "What is Brianna's sister's name?" he asked forebodingly.

"Sierra…" Howard whispered, "Sierra Boyd."


	10. Chapter 10

**A Million Little Pieces**

**By: supernaturaldh**

**Beta- Kokoda2007 **

**Chapter 10**

**Buckets-A-Crazy **

Sierra Boyd fumbled with the large duffle bag full of supplies as she moved to open the cellar door. Finally, she dumped the carry all filled with candles, matches, bottled water, rope, syringes, and various other necessary items against the sun warmed grass. _This door is too hard to open. _ She sighed wearily and stood up; stretching her perfectly manicured hands above her head, she stretched her straining muscles. _Damn bag is heavy._

She had buzzed by the motel on her way back from town, finding the oldest Winchester silently stowed away inside the room. She would think he wasn't even looking for his brother, but she knew better. Dean Winchester had called excessively; leaving what she was sure was lengthy messages, pleading words, begging to talk to his little brother. She grinned and patted her blue jeans pocket just to make sure the phone was still neatly stashed away.

She smiled, bent down and yanked harshly at the heavy wooden door. It creaked loudly, and then pulled open, casting a bright warm glow inside the opening. She looked downward at the shaggy mop of hair, the still face lodged against the concrete, the long legs splayed halfway up the steps, and she frowned.

She could see the dark puddle of blood that was pooling beneath the chestnut hair, bright color staining the dirty floor. But it was Sam's pants leg that caught her immediate attention, the deep crimson swath of fabric, the jagged torn skin, and the stark white bone that was piercing up from beneath the tattered jeans. _Well, shit, guess I should have checked him out before I left. _ _Hope he isn't dead or anything._ She grabbed up the duffle bag with a grunt and moved hastily down the stairs. She side stepped the unconscious body as she moved quickly inside the room.

**-0- **

"My brother's already missing." Dean said angrily as he pushed to stand, the chair wobbling back and force in his wake. "And the last time Sam was seen, it was with Sierra," he spat out vehemently. _Son of a bitch…_

"Shit," Harry mumbled, "I wondered where he was? I saw you leave in a hurry, but I hadn't seen him since yesterday, I didn't know, I'm sorry."

Dean's eyes darted over to Harry, "So you been out their lurking for how long dude?" Guilt pushed heavily down on Dean's heart. _I should have picked up on the fact he was watching us, I should have figured it out, protected Sammy. _

Harry shrugged hesitantly, not liking the hostile look that was currently adorning Mr. Winchester's face.

Dean paced the room like a caged animal, eyes darting frantically to the chubby guy still seated in the chair.

"Where would Sierra take Sam?" He clipped out heatedly.

Harry sighed loudly, brows furrowing in deep contemplative thought.

"I don't know…I was hoping I could catch her before she found you. She's punishing you, you know, not your brother…she wants _you_ _to suffer_ for Brianna's death."

"That's just plain crazy; I didn't have a damn thing to do with what happened to Brianna." Dean huffed out. "She was hit by a bus for Christ sake."

"I know, I know," Harry whispered regretfully.

Dean stopped pacing and stood stock still, gazing at Harry's distressed face.

"Sam's a pretty big guy," Dean offered up, realizing that Sierra was probably the size of Brianna, which wasn't big at all. "I'm sure he'll get the upper hand and get away from her." He said securely, hoping his words were correct.

"Yeah, I'm sure that you're right, I just hope he doesn't hurt her," the distraught father whispered.

Dean just stared blankly at Brianna's father, trying to contain his verbal outburst. The man was her Dad, after all. Dean knew that, expected nothing less; but, Sierra, she was mentally ill, off kilter, and she had Sam. He really didn't care what the hell happened to her.

**-0- **

Sam awoke slowly, no longer on the steps, but sprawled lengthwise at the bottom of the stairwell. He blinked sluggishly at the unfocused face that was gawking down at him.

"Dean?" He murmured.

His head hurt. He was curled on his side, his body shivering harshly against the hard damp floor. Each shudder shot a red hot pain up from his broken leg, throbbing deep into his hipbone. He noticed that his shoes and socks were gone 'cause he could make out his wiggling toes. His jacket was balled up beneath his aching head, and he was freezing, Dean's thin dress shirt and his own worn out blue jeans offering little in the way of heat.

He blinked sluggishly, endeavoring to focus on the face in front of him, but it moved fuzzily away. He could vaguely make out the wavering glow of candles, the fragrance of Jasmine and wild flowers floating in the air. He shuddered, his body shaking as he attempted to roll against his back. He vaguely came to realize that it was not going to happen, his own hands bound tightly behind his rear. He released a minor gasp; the rope was taut, cutting off his circulation, chafing against his wrists.

"Be still," a tart voice whispered above him.

The captor leaned in so close that Sam could feel their breath blowing lightly through his bangs.

He trembled.

"Huh?" he whispered.

"If you'll be good, Sam, I won't give you another dose of the ketamine. You know it's a horse tranquilizer," the sweet voice said hauntingly. "It could kill you if I give you too much."

Sierra giggled manically.

Sam cringed at her voice, his neck still aching from his last meeting with the harsh syringe full of drugs. His vision and thoughts cleared slightly as he looked into the wildly darting emerald green eyes.

"Sierra?" he whispered.

A wicked grin slowly curled up on Sierra's rosy lips as her semi-drugged captive stared blankly at her, recognition dawning slowly on his face.

Sam felt sick. _This girl is buckets-a-crazy…_

Suddenly, he heaved, the sour taste of bile rolling uncontrollably up against the back of his tongue. His face contorted in one last attempt to hold the sickness at bay, but no such luck. The warm liquid spewed across his lips and sputtered to the floor.

"Ewe," Sierra gasped and jumped aside, leaning quickly away from the sodden Winchester. The vile stench filled her nostrils, eliciting a dainty gag response.

"God, you are just gross." She said hostilely as she yanked up a syringe from her bag and angrily plunged it into Sam's forearm.

The young hunter's hazel eyes grew wide with fear, and he attempted to move away from the wildly flailing needle. But it was too late. He wheezed out a painful groan as the sharpness pierced through tender skin. His head lolled from side to side, and he moaned his brother's name.

Sierra laughed.

Sam slumped uncontrollably against the puddle of sickness on the floor. The fowl stench of vomit, mixed with blood, and teardrops, assaulting him as the room began a slow and lazy spin.

**-0- **

Dean sat silently in the oak chair eyes watching the man across from him.

The anxious older brother had been waiting patiently for Bobby Singer to arrive. It had been well over an hour since he last heard from him, well over sixteen hours since Sam had gone missing. His leg jumped incessantly, foot tapping nervously against the dirty carpet. He needed to be doing something to help Sam. He needed to be doing something right now.

He stood, running a shaky hand through his short cropped hair. He sighed nervously and began to pace the room.

"I'm sorry." Harry muttered in a low miserable whisper.

Dean stopped and stared sadly at the older man.

_Brianna's father. _ Dean rubbed his tired eyes. He truly felt sorry for him. The magnitude of having lost one daughter to a tragic accident, and then the other to mental illness, well, Dean knew it probably sucked out loud.

He thought about his little brother, wishing Sierra had left Sammy alone, had taken him instead.

Not his brother.

It wasn't fair, Sam certainly didn't deserve to be punished, and the poor kid had done nothing to Sierra, hell he didn't even know who Brianna was, had been away at college when Dean had met her.

Dean cringed as he remembered his excited little brother's words. _"I…I met a girl," Sam stammered out swiftly, a light flush rising to his cheeks. _

Dean felt overwhelmed, sudden anguish weighing heavily down against him. Sam had felt something for Sierra, of that much he was sure. Sam had been smiling and excited at the prospect of meeting up with her at the coffee shop. But sadly, Sierra had not felt the same way, had only wanted revenge, to hurt his older brother. He shook his head, overwhelmed with insurmountable guilt. _God, Sammy did nothing to deserve this…nothing at all, it is totally my fault._

He blinked and gazed down at the dirty carpet, his weary mind replying what had happened the day that Brianna Boyd had died. On that day his heart had been broken into a million little pieces, and he had made a vow – a solemn vow – that he would never fall in love again.

**Okay- tell me if you liked it. More limp Sam and angsty Dean to come. - supernaturaldh-**


	11. Chapter 11

**A Million Little Pieces**

**By: supernaturaldh**

**Beta- Kokoda2007**

**Chapter 11**

**End of the Rope **

**A/N: Thank you to everyone for reading and reviewing this story. I am so glad you like it. A lot more limp Sam, big brother Dean to come.**

**-supernaturaldh-**

Sam was so tired, his body exhausted from his battle with the pain. He felt sluggish and heavy and struggled to pull himself out of the drug induced sleep. He vaguely recalled what was going on, his mind a fuzzy mess. He felt the rough floor beneath his cheek, and slowly tugged his lashes open against the sticky mess. The mild aroma of sickness and blood permeated his nostrils, and he dry heaved and swallowed convulsively.

The first thing he realized was that he couldn't feel his leg. He wondered if it was still attached. His arms were numb; the circulation long ago cut off against his straining wrists. His head was throbbing in a steady beat against his aching eyelids. He could feel little particles of sweat prickling against his forehead, his damp hair a plastered mass against his face, and his dry eyes burned with heated fever.

_I don't feel so good._

He blinked, straining his eyes to see. He slowly comprehended where he was, the memory of one Sierra Boyd slowly shifting back among his thoughts. He sighed wearily as large tears welled up in his lids.

_God, why is she doing this? _

He rolled his cheek against the sticky ground, his matted hair pressing to his face as the tears rolled silently down his cheeks and meshed with his soiled surroundings.

_Dean, I need Dean._

He cried muffled sobs as he curled in against himself. He pulled his long legs up to rest against his chest and cried. Sobs racked his body drugged up body. He didn't know how long he had been here, or how long he had been missing, but he did know one thing, his big brother would come for him and Sierra would be sorry.

_Dean's coming…I know he won't leave me here. _

He pulled in a stifled breath of air as he heard movement from behind him. His heart skipped a beat and he tried to control his rising panic.

_She's coming back. _

He turned his head slowly and blinked, attempting to clear his hazy vision. He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt cold fingertips cupping at his chin. She tugged his head harshly upward, to stare directly in his face. His eye tried to focus. He could see her lips moving, but he couldn't make out the words. He watched as she licked her overly glossy lips, and whispered faintly next to his face, warm breath fluttering lightly against his cheek. Her nails tore into his flesh as she gripped his face so tightly that her fingers drew blood to the surface.

She grinned and swung her other hand toward his neck, flashing the syringe with yellow liquid in front of his face.

_Please god, no more. _

His blown eyes grew wider and he fought to pull away. He mumbled, and begged, and pleaded, and Sierra smiled, as the needle once again pierced paling his skin.

**-0-**

Dean darted up as he heard the large truck pull into the parking lot. He recognized the reverberating noise from Bobby's old engine and stepped quickly toward the motel door. He yanked it open forcefully and peered out across the parking lot.

It was nearly noon, the sunshine high in the sky, and Dean had not seen his baby brother in over twenty hours. That fact alone was not sitting well with the oldest Winchester. He was just about at the end of his rope, and he knew it. He had spent the last hour and a half waiting on Bobby Singer, pondering where Sierra might have taken his little brother. Unfortunately, Howard Haley did not seem to be much help.

Dean and the older man had gone through details over and over, pondered different scenarios, the names of family members, people Sierra may have known, places she may have taken Sam. Still, the father was not a lot of help, he didn't seem to have a clue where his crazy daughter may have taken his brother, and that fact alone, really pissed Dean off.

Dean had resorted to calling Sam's cell phone for like the fiftieth time. He had even tried to trace the phone with the wireless company, but since it was new, and Sam had not yet turned on the tracking device, they could only advise that Wedge Antilles was within a fifty mile radius of his location. _Well, no shit, big help with that. _

"Any word on Sam," Bobby asked hastily as he sprinted from the truck and across the parking lot toward Dean.

"No…god Bobby, we got to find him. This girl…she's nuts."

Dean heard the hesitant outtake of air behind him and glanced over his shoulder.

Howard Haley stood silently, looking steadily out the doorway at the fast approaching older man.

Although his words were harsh, Dean did not regret saying them, not one little bit. Howard needed to understand, he was going to find his little brother - at any and all costs - and if that meant shooting one crazy ass girl, well hell then, that's just what he'd do.

**-0- **

Sierra fiddled with Sam's cell phone, her tiny fingers fumbling across the buttons. She looked down at the young man's sluggish face. He was awake, but just barely, a light flush settling in against his cheeks. _Damn, he must have a fever._ She smiled with slight concern, and pressed her hand against his heated forehead. _Damn it. _ He was a cute guy, she would give him that, but he was Dean Winchester's brother, and no matter what, Dean Winchester was going to suffer.

Sam blinked up at Sierra, his unfocused pupils a tiny pinprick amongst his large overblown hazels. He looked confused and scared. _Where is Dean? _ He moaned unconscientiously.

Sierra frowned, she almost felt sorry for him, almost. She patted him lightly on the arm.

"Shhhh, it's okay," she whispered.

She scrolled down the contact listing, shrugging silently when she only found three or four names. _Poor guy, he didn't have any freaking friends._ She shook her head discouragingly, holding her finger over Dean's quick dial number.

**-0- **

Bobby entered the motel room giving the weary Winchester an inquisitive glance as he walked steadily past him. _Dean looked beat. _ The door closed silently behind him and he let his eyes dart quickly to the other man in the room.

"Bobby Singer," he stated matter of fact. He looked silently at Howard as Dean shuffled anxiously from one foot to the other and retold the story, advising him of Brianna and Sierra Boyd. He nodded wordlessly as the oldest Winchester explained that the pudgy man was actually the girl's step father, and that Sierra had gone off the deep end after her twin sister's death. As the tired Winchester delved into the story of Brianna, his old friend saw the emotions flashing across young man's face, and it tugged at his own heartstrings.

"Okay," Bobby stated finally as he looked inquisitively over at Harry, "So where would she take him?"

Howard shrugged.

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Damn it, man ... think." Dean hissed angrily just as his cell phone began to vibrate.

He flashed a hopeful look to both men as he whipped his phone from his pocket and looked at the caller ID.

"Sammy?" He yelled loudly has the receiver pushed against his cheek.

"No, not exactly," Sierra's soft whispered voice reverberated in his ear.

"Sierra," Dean frowned.

Both older men looked curiously at Dean's strained, upset expression.

"How sweet of you Dean, you know my name."

"Where is Sam?" Dean asked forcefully. His ears strained as he heard the cell phone rustle and move around.

Sierra spoke tersely, "Sammy, it's your brother. Ya' wan' a talk to him?"

She held the phone roughly against the side of Sam's face.

"Mmmm…D'n?" a sluggish voice whispered.

"SAMMY?"

Dean's breath caught in his throat and he struggled to stay in control. _Sam was alive…Sam was alive…Sam was alive._

"You okay? Sam? SAMMY, Talk to me kiddo."

"Sam's a bit out of it right now." Sierra laughed crazily as she yanked the phone away from Sam's ear.

Dean heard his little brother whimper.

"You bitch," The older brother hissed, "what the hell you have done to my brother, where the hell…"

The anger radiated off Dean in a large wave as he made great effort to continue to tug in oxygen, his chest heaving in tiny pants.

Bobby immediately yanked the cell phone from Dean's shaky fingers fearing that his friend was about to loose control, loose his one connection and Sierra would hang up.

"Talk to her, find out where she is." Bobby whispered urgently as he shoved the cell phone at her distraught looking father.

Howard faltered momentarily, and then grabbed the phone quickly from Bobby's agile fingers. He looked forlornly from Bobby to Dean's erratic face and pushed the phone against his ear, a sad paternal look rolling to his features.

"Sierra?" he whispered with concern.

"Daddy," Sierra said, small little girl like voice soft with confusion.

"Where are you?" Howard asked, "Tell me where you are, Daddy will come and help you, baby girl."

Sierra faltered for a moment, empty air coming through the phone. She shook her head and evaluated the situation, refocusing on her task.

"No, no, no, Daddy, I…I don't need no help." She stated flatly. "I like it here, it's my favorite place."

"Where baby?"

"The only place I have ever been happy." Sierra's voice grew monotone and void of any emotions.

"What?" Howard asked curiously.

The cell phone clicked off, the line going hauntingly dead.

The father stood silently, mouth agape, thoughts racing through Sierra's childhood. He sighed and dropped the phone lifelessly to his side.

"Shit, she did not just hang up….please god, tell me she did not hang up…you at least found out where they are….didn't you…." Dean's voice quivered with anxiety as he looked fixedly at the paling face of Sierra's father.

"Well," Bobby frowned, terse expression resting on his face as he glared at the pudgy man in front of him. _I am so going to kick this guy's ass if he did not get any information. _

Howard just stood stock still, mind deep in thoughts and memories as he quietly mused over his daughter's final words.

"Son of a bitch," Dean hissed, as he pushed heavy handedly at Harry's shoulders, knocking the older man unsteadily backwards toward the wall.

"Dean…" Bobby spat out, stepping hastily between Dean and the man. He could tell by the anger bleeding off of Dean's face that his young friend and reached his breaking point, he was out of control.

"I…I think…Sierra and her sister used to go….I might know, not sure, but could be…." Harry stammered out.

Dean's eyes grew huge, heart thudding in his chest.

"What…where, please god tell me where."

**-0-**


	12. Chapter 12

**A Million Little Pieces**

**By: supernaturaldh**

**Beta- Kokoda2007 **

**Chapter 12**

**The Burdens that we Bare **

The sleek black Impala barreled down the gravel roadway, rocks and dust flying backwards in its wake. The three men inside were tense and quiet, eyes squinting through the windshield at the dark, starless sky. They had been driving for over three hours, the sun completely setting in the west as the cool evening air enveloped the vehicle. The light hum of tires against the roadway, the nervous tap of wayward fingertips against the steering wheel, and anxious breaths the only noises reverberating inside the car.

It had taken Howard Haley only a few moments to pull his thoughts together after his conversation with Sierra. He knew where she was, he had figured it out from her one simple statement. _"The only place I've ever been happy." _Her sad voice echoed in his head. He should have thought of it before, but it was a long time ago, and life had moved on. He shook his head and blinked back the warm tears that were welling against his eyelids. A lot had happened to his family since that special summer spent at the little house in the middle of no where. The one place he had forgotten all about, the one place his daughter had felt loved and safe.

The girl's maternal grandmother had not been an easy woman to like. She had been sad and bitter after her daughter's death, not wanting anything to do with Harold or the twins, telling him it hurt too much to be around them. Time had passed, and wounds had healed, and forgiveness had finally come. The last summer of her life she had begged Howard to bring the girls to visit, eventually, he had given in to her request.

The trip had been wonderful, the woman offering the girls solace and memories of their mother that he had never been able to give. They were good memories that made him ache for his dead wife, for the life they could have had. The recollections he didn't want to forget, but they hurt too much to remember. He felt selfish now, after the fact. He remembered getting upset, piling his little girls back in the car and dragging them screaming from their distraught grandmother. It was just too hard back then, too many memories that he had to get away from.

He had been certain the woman knew the entire time they were there that she was dying; the letter from her lawyer coming just several weeks after. He never apologized to his girls for pulling them away from their only family. He never told them that she had died, or that she had left them the house and property. It hurt too much, so he lied, told his girls their grandmother did not want to see them again. He hated himself for doing it.

The weary father shuddered at his past actions. He tugged at the zipper on his coat, the memories of that time long ago assaulting his weary senses. He let his eyes dart over the bench seat to gaze at Dean, wishing he could change the events that had transpired, wishing his wife hadn't died, wishing his daughter Brianna had lived to have a life with Dean, and wishing Sierra had not gone down the path of self destruction, had not lost herself when her sister had been killed. He shrugged; he knew that wishing was not going to change anything, make anything better, or make what he had to do any easier.

**-0-**

The old dilapidated farmhouse rolled into view. The peeling white paint and rotting wood created an eerie picture against the silhouette of the darkening sky, the large lifeless trees swaying silently in the wind. The front of the structure was marred with brown weeds and grass that seemed to be overtaking the building and it was obvious, the old house had seen better days, had not had any kind of love in a very long time.

"Is this it?" Dean asked inquisitively as his eyes dashed up to the rearview mirror and settled on Howard Haley's face.

"Yes, I just pray this is where she is." Howard offered quietly.

Dean blew out an exasperated breath. _God, I hope so too._

"Pull over here; let's not let her see us coming." Bobby commanded as his rugged hand waggled toward the side of the road.

The oldest Winchester nodded at his friend and eased the car into the grass at least a half a mile from the rotting front of the old house, hiding it securely behind some large brush and trees.

All three men exited the car quickly, Dean and Bobby shuffling hastily around to the trunk.

As Dean's fingers yanked out his sawed off, Howard Haley sighed, and blew out a shaky breath. This was going to be hard. He didn't want his daughter hurt, but if she had harmed Sam Winchester, he knew the kid's older brother was not going to take kindly to that, would never just let it go. His hand grazed lightly over his own handgun tucked neatly away in his coat pocket. He had not had to use it, not yet, but if the opportunity arose, and God he hoped it didn't, he would protect his only child.

**-0-**

If Dean Winchester knew anything, he knew that this was his fault, all of it, and he was damn well getting Sammy away from this crazy woman. His thoughts were running rampant as he steered the car down the dark and lonely highway. He tapped out a staccato rhythm against the steering wheel, attempting to keep his anger and worry at bay. He could see Bobby Singer's eyes glancing discreetly over at him numerous times, worry etched on the older man's face. Bobby knew him too well, knew he was struggling with his feelings, his remorse, his anger.

He felt Howard shuffling in the back seat, eyes watching unconsciously against the back of his head. He glanced in the rearview to see the sad intense face looking directly back at him. He knew Howard Haley was having a rough time. Hell, the man's story was a sad one, almost as sad as his and Sam's. He was sorry that the man had lost his wife, raised his step daughters all alone, and then, lost Brianna in a tragic manner. He did feel bad for him, he really did. He hated that Sierra Boyd had gone off the deep end, a serious mental problem that had culminated with her wanting to hurt him, hurt his little brother. He was sorry for that, but, making Sam pay, well, that was just not an option he could live with. Not for something he had done. It shouldn't be Sammy who was getting punished; he knew it should be him.

"_It's not your fault Dean; you didn't make the girl walk out in front of a bus." _Bobby's stern words echoed in his head. He wanted to believe him, he did, but his heart was telling him something totally different. If he had never met Brianna, never fallen in love with her emerald eyes, her long luscious red hair, then none of this would be happening and Brianna would still be alive, Sierra would not be crazy, and Sam, well, he would be right by his side.

He sucked in a shaky breath, his finger tapping faster against the steering wheel. He was angry with himself, and he was angry with his Dad. If John had only told him the truth, been honest with him, then he would've known, would've been prepared and not let this happen to Sammy. He chewed angrily on his lower lip, cursed silently at his father, and pushed the gas pedal solidly against the floorboard.

**-0- **

Sam Winchester was a mess, his mind lolling in the place between alert and unconsciousness, awake and asleep. He was totally unaware of his injuries; the broken leg now completely numb, the wound on the back of his head slowly seeping blood, a small pool lying just beneath his mussed and matted hair. A light fever ravaged his weak body causing a bright flush against his cheeks. He was aware of very little, only one thought coursing through his head.

_I want my big brother…Dean…Dean please come…Dean…Dean…Dean… _

The words played like a mantra within his foggy brain, focusing him on the here and now, and anchoring him to reality. He blinked sluggishly attempting to warn off the heavy haze, but it was of no use, the demons, the angels, the evil that he fought against his entire life was slowly taking a hold of his over medicated thoughts. He whimpered as the hallucinations battered against him, the drug coursing freely through his veins. His panic and terror racked up a notch as his weary body fought back, his mind no longer able to determine the truth from the illusions, the real from the make believe. He moaned and shuddered from the fever, from the pain, and from the fear that was taking a tight hold.

_It isn't real. It isn't real…it's not…it's not…it's not._

He could hear shrill laughter just above him and he looked up into the haunted face. Malevolent green eyes glowered down at him. He couldn't make out the features, but he could feel a warm breath against his cheek, hateful words pressed against his ear.

"You're all alone Sam, all alone. No one is coming - no one." The insufferable voice hissed.

He felt fingers digging into his shoulder and he pulled away. He turned his head and closed his eyes, resting his cheek against the dirty floor. A low sob escaped from his parched throat.

"No," he whimpered, his lethargic eyelids closed.

"Your brother isn't coming," Sierra mocked and laughed, then physically nudged him callously with her shoe.

Sam started for a second, eyes blinking open wind in confusion. The room was spinning and tilting as he looked up at Sierra. The tears welled against his lashes as his face lolled back against the floor.

"Den'll c'm," he mumbled.

"Good," Sierra giggled uncontrollably," 'cause then, he's going to die."


	13. Chapter 13

**A Million Little Pieces**

**By: supernaturaldh**

**Beta- Kokoda2007 **

**Chapter 13**

**Cruel Intentions**

Sierra Boyd smiled cruelly, her lips turned up in a wicked grin. She gazed expressionlessly at the limp body next to her, and then moved her shoe to kick at the side of the waxy pale cheek, sole hitting against bone with a loud thud. Young Mr. Winchester's face rolled with the force she inflicted, but he was down for the count, completely oblivious to what was going on around him.

Sierra felt elated, happy, and very pleased with herself. She had made him suffer, although not nearly enough for her own liking. She should just kill him, leave him here for dead, but that was way too easy and this, well, it was so much more fun. Her lips pouted. The arrogant man responsible for her sister's death would suffer just like she had; Dean Winchester would finally understand the pain and grief he had inflected on her when he let her sister die.

The shadowy basement was diffusing as the sunlight faded into grey. The red headed girl giggled frenetically and opened the duffle that was plopped down against the dirty floor. She struck a wooden match and watched as it sizzled, the bright orange glow intriguing her as it momentarily held her racing thoughts. She stared blankly at the flame then looked briefly down at Sam's flaccid face.

She smiled.

She dropped to one knee next to her captive and held the flicking match against the top of his limp forearm. His skin immediately scorched and reddened as the flame sizzled against the human flesh.

The unconscious man flinched, his charred arm yanking convulsively away.

And she watched.

A large blister red blister welled immediately against the tender skin.

Sam moaned.

And she laughed - manically.

"That's gonna leave a mark," she cackled as she pursed her cherry lips together and curled forward to blow out the faltering flame.

Dumping the rest of the candles to the floor, she mumbled lightly to herself as she lit each wick slowly and placed them strategically around the root cellar. She heard her prisoner moan again, a low whispered word easing across his cracked, uncolored lips.

Sam's lashes fluttered momentarily.

"D'n?"

Sierra looked anxiously back at his face with wild, obsessive eyes. _Is he waking up?_

**-0- **

Boots thudded lightly through the muddy grass, the overgrown weeds, and the darkness as the men dashed anxiously around the shadowy woodland toward the dilapidated house.

"Dean…" Bobby stopped. He spoke quietly as his finger pointed toward the side of the tattered, worn out building.

Dean's eyes glinted steadily as they fell to rest against the back end of a car that peeked around the far side of the dwelling. Relief welled against his chest. _Thank god, we found them._

"Sierra…" Harry whispered as fear etched into his tone.

The men eased quietly up the steps onto the rickety porch.

Dean's agile fingers gripped the unlocked metal doorknob, and pushed inside the structure; the rotted wood creaked beneath his weight as he moved silently through the open door. A light voice floated on the wind and he stopped. He whipped his head around to gaze at Bobby Singer, who stood stock still just behind him.

The senior hunter's hand flailed upward signaling for Howard Haley to stop. All three men stood silently and waited, not wanting to alarm their prey as they listened to the low murmuring voice that settled in their ears.

Bobby nodded towards the stairwell; eyes glinting intently back at Dean. He motioned noiselessly for Dean to check the lower floor.

The older Winchester's eyebrows arched, giving Bobby a silent, but firm okay. Then, he watched as the older man ascended the stairs to the second floor. His attention momentarily flickered back to Howard as the father moved hesitantly into the front room. Dean moved by him, noticing the old furniture, doilies, and antiques decorating the musty surroundings, it was obvious to him that no one had lived here in a very, very long time.

Howard stopped in front of the fireplace, staring vacantly at the picture adorning the mantle. It was a picture of his girls, with their grandmother, taken the day he had forced them to go home. Guilt cut through his gut like a red hot razorblade and he sucked in a raggedy breathe of air.

Dean stopped and stared at the frozen man gazing forlornly at a faded photograph. Two green eyed, red haired children perched upon an older woman's lap, large smiles decorating their little faces. He noticed that Howard looked distraught and sad and he momentarily felt for the guy. _The poor man, he had lost one daughter to a tragic accident, and the other, well; he really lost her that day too._

Dean sighed, and tilted his head to the side attempting to concentrate on the sounds of the muffled words that continued to filter into the room from somewhere. He strained his hearing, finally able to make out the whispered words.

"Oh Sammy, this won't hurt one bit." A low sweet voice cooed.

The big brother stood on alert, anger rising quickly to his features.

_Sammy?_

Dean slammed his body forward and across the tiny kitchen in one beat of his heart. He scuffled and slid as he yanked open the cellar door with unconstrained haste. He was distraught with worry as he leapt down the stairs taking two at a time. _Get to Sam, get to Sam, get to Sam_ .

Dean vaguely heard Harry calling after him, the man's boots thudding loudly along behind him as he bounded down the stairs. The low glow of candles assaulted his tired pupils and he attempted to focus in the dimly glowing light.

**-0- **

Sierra's heard the commotion, before she saw it. Her head darted upward to the noise that was bouncing across the room. She stared through hostile slits at the silhouettes, jet black images jutting slowly down the stairs. Her mouth fell open in surprise as she stared blankly at the shadowy figures. _It's too soon, no, no, no, Dean can't be here yet…_ Her fingers dropped the empty syringe to the floor and it rolled away. She wind milled her arms backwards, attempting push her self away from the limp form on the floorboards. _I need the gun in the duffle, need the gun._ She fumbled in her movements and the back of her hand hit the assortment of fragrantly lit candles and tumbled them to the floor. Her fingers flailed inside the duffle, grabbing at the handgun she knew was hidden there. Finally, her hand latched onto it and in one swift movement, she stood on shaky legs.

"Sam! Sammy?" Dean's voice pierced through the darkness.

Blinking, the older brother focused on the contents of the room. He could barely make out the figure slumped against the floor, but immediate recognition assaulted him - it was Sammy, his Sammy, unconscious amongst the still flaming candles as they rolled across the ground. Standing next to Sam, looking wide eyed and crazy, was a red haired, green eyed beauty. _Jesus, she looks just like Brianna._

The shock of the moment, of seeing the resemblance Sierra had to her twin sister, shook Dean to his very core and he gasped in a raggedy breathe of air. Then, just as quickly, it was gone, concern overwhelming any remaining surprise he may have had, he glared from Sierra to his little brother's disheveled form.

"Get the hell away from him!" Dean hissed as he jumped the last remaining stairs, words spitting from his lips as he pointed his sawed off directly at Sierra's face.

The young girl stood silent, gazing from Dean's face to the man that was standing behind him.

"Daddy?" she whispered like a small child, eyes wide in wonder.

Howard pushed around Dean to stand slightly in front of him, a slightly puzzled expression pulling to his face.

"Sierra, baby, what are you doing?" the father asked forcefully, body standing frozen where he stood.

Sierra's large green eyes reflected nothing but shock at seeing her dad. The handgun she held in her fingers shook aimlessly to and fro in front of her.

"I…I'm punishing him." Sierra pointed the barrel gingerly at Dean, large confused eyes staring intently at her father. "He...he killed Brianna."

Harold Haley's hands rose up in front of him, palms open, facing forward, a pensive gesture easing to his face.

"No baby, no…" he whispered as tepid tears welled against his eyelids.

Dean's frown deepened and he squinted across the dimly lit room. He kept his gun trained on Sierra, he eyes raking incessantly across Sam's lifeless body.

Sam was a mess, dried blood matted in his chestnut locks; dark bruising coloring his feverish flushed cheeks, but, it was his oddly placed leg that caused Dean's stomach to churn. The swollen limb twisted and grossly out of sync with the rest of his unconscious body; a large grainy bone jutted bloodily up through the tattered denim material as blood pooled beneath it and soaked against the nasty, dirty floor.

The older brother swallow convulsively at the sight, fear for Sam causing his heart to thud loudly in his ears. _Sweet Jesus, I got 'a get Sammy out of here, right now! _

_************_

_**Thank you for reading and reviewing this story. I am working hard to post a chapter a week. More to come. - supernaturaldh-** _


	14. Chapter 14

**A Million Little Pieces**

**By: supernaturaldh**

**Beta- Kokoda2007 **

**Chapter 14**

**The Flames that Rise Around Us**

Sam vaguely heard noises resounding in the recesses of his mind.

He struggled to pull himself free from the medicated stupor, but his body was no longer under his power. His limbs wouldn't move. He couldn't make out the mumbled words or the sounds that filtered in around him. He couldn't seem to open his eyes. He wanted to, he really did, but it was somehow easier just to drift here in oblivion.

"_Sam! Sammy?"_

Dean's voice pierced through the thick vial of shadows and Sam struggled to get free.

"_Get the hell away from him!"_

Sam's sluggish mind recognized his big brother's tone; the protective quality Dean had reserved just for him. The one voice that said to everyone, _this is my little brother, my Sammy, and you had better just back the hell off_. He connected the voice with solace, with strong arms and comfort, and he knew he had to respond.

His hazel orbs barely slit open, his head lolling to the side, as he blinked excessively, attempting to clear his murky vision. _ Dean?_

He heard the flutter of movement and he rolled his head back to look up at the indistinct figure that was looming just above him. Immediate and unrelenting fear clutched at him, gripped him to the very core, and he flinched away. His eyes darted rapidly back and forth, confusion evident on his face, as his weak arms attempted to push and shove, to get away. _No, please, don't… _

Just moving caused white hot pain to rip through his weakened body and he gasped with its intensity. He blinked one time as his vision slowly pinpointed to black. His eyes lost their focus as they rolled slowly back into his head and his traumatized body slumped limply back against the dirty, blood soaked floor.

**-0- **

Dean watched as Sam seemed to stir, his baby brother endeavoring to pull himself from his unconscious world. At that moment, he wanted urgently to be at Sam's side, to help him. _ Sammy needs me… _

He watched as Sam's head tilted slightly, unfocused eyes finally settling on his face.

Dean's heart raced. _Do something…_ He could see the fear and confusion as it flashed across the fever flushed features, the pain that etched quickly up around his baby brother's eyes. To see the state his brother was in; it really pissed him off.

"Sammy? He whispered urgently.

He watched as Sam's eyes faltered, and then, slowly drifted closed.

Suddenly, Dean was more than angry, he was furious, face twitching, lips snarling up in nasty glare. He looked from Sam's inert form back to Sierra, and hatred spread through him like wildfire. He wanted this girl dead. His whole body shook, finger twitching immediately on the trigger of the gun. _It's full of rock salt, it won't kill her, but it will certainly hurt like hell, and she deserves it, hell, she deserves more…_ The words echoed in his head as his finger pulled, without hesitation, against the hard, metal trigger.

**-0- **

The next few moments were a blur of bodies and bullets and mayhem in the dark and dreary cellar.

The salt gun in Dean's hands fired just once as he was physically assaulted from behind by Howard, the item flying haphazardly from his fingertips and clattering to the ground. Dean's knees buckled from the excessive blow, his body ramming downward against the floorboards. His empty hands swung forward in one last attempt to break his fall. His breath expelled violently from his lungs from the force as he gasped for oxygen against his graying vision.

"Gah…" Dean wheezed out.

The spray of white crystals danced just above Sierra's head as the intended bullet veered slightly upwards in the air. Tiny pellets of saline swirling downward to settle against her crimson hair. Howard Haley continued his forward ascent, tumbling and tripping toward his own daughter. He knocked Sierra backwards to the ground as the lone sound of one bullet pierced hauntingly through the air. He looked wide eyed at his daughter, then swayed abruptly, and fell lifeless against the floor.

**-0-**

Sierra saw her father knocking Dean Winchester to the ground, and then freight training directly toward her in one abrupt motion. She felt the gun wavering in her fingers as she was lifted off her feet from the impact. She was vaguely aware as her finger yanked unintentionally on the trigger. She blinked in stunned surprise.

The candles flickered from the collision and rolled in spinning spirals across the floor. They settled against a large pile of rags and fire immediately flared upward. The heat intense as combustible items and rotted wood burst into bright red and orange flames that ate quickly at the surroundings.

The heat fanned upward in a bold array of colors. It teased at Sierra's skin, as she screamed in dazed shock. She maneuvered quickly away from the flames, skittering backwards across the grimy floor. Thick black smoke bellowed aloft eating up the oxygen in the small room. Her eyes stung, and she blinked, her lids filling with moisture to fend off the intense, dark smoke. She sat stunned until her straining green eyes aligned with her father. She gazed numbly at his face, then down against his chest as the blood flowed thickly up through his shirt, and soaked down into a puddle on the floor.

"Daddy?" she shrieked loudly, tears cascading downward against her heat flushed cheeks. She clawed crazily across Sam's inert body as she clamored to get to her father. She grabbed him physically up against her, fingers clutching at his flaccid face.

"Oh God, no….Daddy, please…" She choked out between ragged coughs.

**-0-**

"Son-of-a-bitch." Dean muttered as he attempted to raise his head, to regain his bearings as he shook off the haze that had settled down around him. He fought to pull in some air, a harsh cough racking his fraught body as the smoke rolled down around him. He blinked in confusion, staring blankly at the cloudy figures just in front of his face. His oxygen deprived mind slowly worked out exactly what was going on. _Jesus, she shot Howard? _ Slow recognition dawned on his face and he squinted through the smoke filled room. _Holy shit, this place is on fire. _ His eyes focused directly on his little brother's unconscious form.

"Sammy!" He shouted, adrenaline pumping instantly through his veins. He felt the hot blaze of fire against him as he pushed and shoved forward attempting to get to Sam.

"Sam?" He slid down to a crouch on the wooden planks right next to his kid brother's side; the smoke so thick that he could barely make out Sam's face through the dark cloud that hovered around him. The older brother coughed violently, smoke filling up his battered lungs. _God, I have to get Sammy out of here…_

Tugging at Sam's lifeless arms, Dean grabbed beneath his armpits and clasped his fingers tightly together against Sam's chest. _ It'll be okay Sammy…just hang on…_ He slowly began to drag his unaware sibling toward the stairwell, coughing excessively from the strain. He stopped abruptly when he heard the young girl crying. _Shit… _ He turned hastily to look back at Sierra, her dead father now resting in her arms, blood covering the side of her face and mixing with the tears and soot.

"Sierra, you have to come with me…now…" He said sternly, tugging his brother back up against him.

Glazed, blank eyes looked up at Dean, no recognition apparent in Sierra's face.

"Sierra…please - follow me." He begged, voice pleading with some part of the girl to listen, to leave her dead father behind and get out of the flaming inferno. _Please, I can't save you both…_

Sierra remained still, blank wild eyes glancing down at her father then back up to Dean.

"No…"she whispered, "no, no, no, no, no."

**-0-**

Sam coughed violently, his eyes barely slitting open to look perplexedly up at Dean. It was foggy, and hazy, and he couldn't seem to catch his breath. He coughed. He couldn't really see his brother's face behind him, but he knew it was Dean. He could smell the scent of the worn leather jacket; feel the warm breath blowing anxiously against the side of his neck. He recognized the comfort of Dean's firm grip, the arms wrapped securely around his chest.

"D..." he coughed again; pain throbbing through is body as he tried to regain control of his breathing.

Dean looked from Sierra down to Sam's confused, incoherent face.

"Easy, Sammy," Dean hacked out, "I gotcha, we're getting out of here."

With that, Dean Winchester made his choice, as he continued to pull and tug his large younger brother forward through the smoke and flames to the steps. He didn't look back as Sierra cried out, nor did he turn around when he heard the wooden wall caving in. He didn't want to see what was happening, and he didn't want to know.

He had one thing on his mind, and one thing only - _Get Sammy out 'a here._


	15. Chapter 15

**A Million Little Pieces**

**By: supernaturaldh**

**Beta- Kokoda2007 **

**Chapter 15**

**Super Heroes and Brothers**

Dean just hoped he was moving in the right direction, his feet stumbling along as he panted for air. The hot flames licked at the walls around him. The smoke so intense that he couldn't even see Sammy; he just knew he was holding him tightly against his chest. Terse coughs racked his body, his eyes closing tightly as tears welled up and rolled unabated down his face. He stumbled backwards, the fire licking at his limbs as he made his unrelenting quest to get them both out alive.

Sam blinked as panic rose up in his chest and he gulped for air. His incoherent eyes stared at bright orange and red flames that seemed to be licking at his feet. He bucked the tightly clutched arms around him as sudden fear ran rampant through his weak body. _Fire, fire, fire, fire…oh god, no…fire, fire. _

"SAMMY…Stop…stop it…I gotcha."

A familiar voice echoed above him and he latched onto the sound. _Dean? _ He felt the strong arms tighten across his chest and his struggles slowly ceased. He wheezed in a gulp of smoke filled air and coughed harshly. The pain overwhelmed and oblivion began to take a hold; he drifted willingly toward the darkness, as his fear of fire slowly ebbed away to nothingness.

"DEAN!" A sudden voice bellowed down from above Dean's faltering form.

He turned his head slightly upward and forced his stinging eyes open, and there, right next to him, was Bobby Singer bounding down through the black smoke. He coughed violently, body staggering against the bottom of the stairs as his grip on his little brother faltered. He felt Sam pulled unexpectedly from his grasp and he blinked as he watched his not so little brother being thrown abruptly over the older man's shoulder. _Huh, who'd a thought, Bobby has super human powers…_

"I got'em," The familiar voice yelled as a strong elbow nudged Dean toward the stairs.

"MOVE Dean, this whole place is going up…" Bobby urged, hacking against the thick black smoke. He pushed the stumbling Winchester up the stairwell, struggling behind with his precious cargo.

**-0- **

Consciousness came slowly to Dean, and he blinked and stared upward at the bright twinkling stars. He coughed violently and sucked in the crisp evening air, the distinct smell of burning wood scorching at his tender senses.

Immediately, Bobby's face appeared directly above him, large brown eyes gazing curiously down at Dean.

"Ya with me, son?"

"What?" Dean slurred, chest heaving with the force of his lungs expelling air. He darted his head around gazing in confusion, dew damp blades of grass caressing the side of his cheek. _Why was he lying on the ground in the dark?_

The sound of falling debris drove him from his mulling and he fumbled weakly to rise to a sitting position, Bobby's strong arms grasping his and pulling him slowly up.

"Easy, Dean…you just sit here and catch your breath."

Dean's eyes grew wide as he saw the red hot flames scorching high into the night sky. Immediate fear clutched at his chest as memories bounded back to him. He pushed against Bobby's grasp and looked around.

"Where's Sammy?" he wheezed out, green eyes pleading with Bobby to tell him that Sammy was okay.

"Easy, he's right here."

Bobby's fingers relented as he nodded to Dean's right, Sam's still form huddled under the grey army blanket that they kept stowed away in the Impala.

"He's in pretty bad shape, in shock, but the ambulance and fire departments are on their way."

Dean crawled on his hands and knees the four feet to Sam's side, his shaky hand cupping against the side of his unconscious siblings face. He could see the blood matted in Sam's hair, the light wheezing of oxygen as it entered and left his battered lungs. His body was racked with fever, damp bangs setting haphazardly against his pale face. His broken leg stuck awkwardly out from under the army blanket with Bobby's outer shirt wrapped tightly around it in an attempt to squelch the sluggish bleeding.

Dean sighed loudly, the kid was a mess. He slumped slowly to rest against the ground, arm draping across Sam's heaving chest and holding the shaking body in a loose embrace. He looked sluggishly over at Bobby and rested his forehead against the side of Sam's pale soot covered face. His lips pressed tightly up against his little brother's ear as he stared blankly across at the burning building, the large flames fanning outward and licking at the sky.

He swallowed against the large lump that had risen in his throat. _I almost didn't get Sammy out of there… _

"I gotcha Sammy, its gon'a be okay," the older brother whispered quietly into the dark chestnut hair.

He leaned listlessly against the ground as he watched the building lurch to the side. He could feel Bobby's firm hand grasping at his upper arm as he clung tightly to his little brother. The building was now fully engulfed in a mass of bright blue and red flames that shot high up into the night; the thick smoke bellowing upward toward the stars.

The heat was intense as the structure was totally taken over by the blaze. A large crack echoed in the darkness as the roof split and slipped its place, the large timbers falling against one another in a mad plummet towards the ground.

**-0-**

Dean was sure he must have passed out again, because the next time he woke up he was riding in the back of an ambulance next to Sam. His little brother was hooked up to some contraption that was helping him breathe, and he found that he also had an oxygen canal laced up underneath his nose. _When did that happen?_

He glanced over to see Sam's hazel eyes staring panic stricken back at him, looking scared and out of sorts.

"It's okay Sammy," he whispered and brought his hand up and across the ambulance to pat lightly at his little brother's hand.

He watched as Sam's lips curled up slightly before his eyes drifted closed.

As the ambulance screeched to a halt, the doors flung open and Dean was moved hastily inside the emergency room, people shouted around him as white coats and hospital blues danced against his vision.

One minute Sam was next to him, and the next, he was gone.

"Hey, wait a minute," Dean said anxiously as he yanked the nasal canal away from his face, shoving at arms and bodies in an attempt to see his little brother through all the commotion.

"Sir, you need that," a large brunette woman said, and Dean looked angrily over at her as he swung himself upward and pushed his feet toward the floor.

"No, I need my brother." He hissed out heatedly as he slid off the rolling gurney, his eyes bolting around looking for Sam.

A manly hand, adorned in a white coat grabbed at his arm, but he wretched away, "I'm fine, lem'me go."

He swayed momentarily, then regained his bearings and bounded after his little brother. He pressed forward into the ER room, and made his way to Sam's side.

Sam whimpered.

The doctor glanced up at the soot covered man who was pushing into the room.

"Who the hell are you what are you doing in here?" His deep voice inquired as Dean grabbed his flailing brother's hand.

Dean gripped his brothers shaking fingers tightly.

"I'm his brother, and I'm not leaving, so get over it," the older brother stated firmly.

The doctor rolled his eyes and shouted out instructions.

"Stay out of the way….Okay, I need an IV stat, massive blood loss, need an MRI of the skull, and start morphine drip…this leg looks bad, get Ortho down here …right away."

Dean's hand rubbed comfortingly down Sam's arm as fear filled hazel eyes blinked confusedly up at him from beneath the oxygen mask.

"It's gon'na be fine Sam, just fine."

**-0-**

Bobby Singer was coming down from his adrenalin high as he sat slumped in the stiff backed hospital chair. He gazed tiredly over at Dean, who was sound asleep laying half on and half off a dingy yellow couch. Dean had finally let the pull of exhaustion take a hold after he had been exiled to the waiting room some two hours ago. Sam had been moved to surgery, fixing the broken leg very high on the doctors list of need to do's for the youngest Winchester.

The senior hunter sighed loudly. He tugged off his ball cap and ran his fingers through his thinning hair. _It had been a long day… _ He gazed intently at Dean. The kid's right hand wrapped up to his wrist from the second degree burns he received while trying to get Sammy out of the flaming cellar. Black smudges adorned his dirty face making him look more like a ten year old instead of the grown man that Bobby knew he was.

The older man smiled, a far away look glistening in his eyes, Dean as a kid, now that was an entertaining memory. The surrogate father laughed silently to him self, stood, yanked up a blanket from the floor, and draped it across the sleeping man. He stretched his arms up over his head, yawned, then glanced down at his watch, sighing, he moved to the crappy vending machine. _Any coffee was better than none. _

_**Okay- so now the overprotective big brother will take over. So sorry about Sierra and her father, but alas, she had to get what was coming to here. I am bad…-supernaturaldh-** _


	16. Chapter 16

**A Million Little Pieces**

**By: supernaturaldh**

**Beta- Kokoda2007 **

**Chapter 16**

**Not Going Anywhere**

_**A/N – Thank you to all the readers who are hanging in there with me on this story, and I'm sorry the posts are slow. My life has gotten rather hectic at this point, and this story, as with my usual stories, has taken on a life all its own. Big thanks to my awesome beta Kokoda2007- couldn't do it without you girl. –supernaturaldh-**_

Dawn came leisurely, sifting slowly through the plate glass window of the hospital waiting room. Bobby Singer's head was slumped against the wall, bloodshot eyes at half mast and slightly glazed over. It had been a long night and he needed some sleep, but finding out something about Sam's condition and keeping an eye on Dean, well, that was his number one priority. He gulped down the remnants of his last cup of coffee and flung the Styrofoam cup in the trash can. He rested his tired chin against his open palm, staring idly at his sleeping friend.

The distinct sound of shoes clicking on linoleum reached the older hunter's ears and he shuffled upward in the chair, brown eyes darting toward the open doorway. An older scrub clad man moved quickly though the waiting room, actively seeking them out.

"Hey, Dean, wake up kid," his gruff voice whispered as he patted lightly against Dean's forearm, tugging the napping Winchester from his slumber.

"Huh?" Dean slurred sleepily as he shifted upward on the couch, stiff limbs moving slowly into a sitting position.

"The doc's here," Bobby offered, "Sam must be out of surgery."

Dean blinked and squinted at the bright light in the room, his fingers rubbing at his sleep crusted eyelids. He looked inquisitively at the man that now stood in front of him.

"Mr. Winchester?" the doctor asked curiously, "family of Samuel Winchester?"

"Yeah," Dean coughed, and stood up laboriously, letting the blanket cascade to the floor as he extended his hand outward toward the man. "How's my brother?"

Bobby stood next to Dean, fingers grasping loosely at the young hunters elbow, in a move of quiet support.

"Well, he made it through the surgery," the doc nodded firmly. "Let's sit," the middle age man yanked a chair from the corner and straddled it in front of the couch. He sighed tiredly, his arms crossing on the back of the plastic chair as he looked at both of the concerned faces.

Dean and Bobby slumped back to the gold colored couch, their inquisitive eyes never leaving the doctor's face.

"Sam sustained an open fracture to the femur at the lower part of the thigh. The femur rests on the top of the tibia, forming the knee joint." The doctor demonstrated the movements with his hands. "At the knee joint the leg can swing forward, backward, or even rotate. When Sam fell, he rotated the kneecap one direction and his femur the other, causing the compound fracture that pushed the bone through the skin. It was a bad break and we had to replace his kneecap and fuse the femur bone back together. It will take some time to heal, and probably several months of physical therapy. I am hopeful that he will regain full mobility in the leg."

Dean sighed, chewing absently on his lower lip. His face was blank as he listened tentatively to the doctor's words.

"He has several cuts and contusions, some requiring stitches. He has a couple of nasty burns that look like someone just held a flame against his arm." The doctor shook his head in disbelief. "He does have a severe concussion, complicated by a fever. He was severely dehydrated, and the drug ketamine, better known as a horse tranquilizer, was found in his system."

"What?" Dean face twitched angrily just above his left eye, "God, that bitch."

"Well, shit," Bobby muttered heatedly to himself.

The doctor grimaced at their reactions, knowing he would feel the same way if someone had done to his brother what had been done to this kid.

"The drug is slowly making its way out of his system, and baring any medical complications, physically, he should make a full recovery."

Dean's eyebrows arched upward, grieved expression rising to his face. _Physically, what's that mean?_

The doctor pushed away from the chair and stood up. "Keep in mind; he has been through a lot. I'm recommending a psychological evaluation by another physician."

Dean scrubbed his hand raggedly through his dirty hair. _Screw that, my brother ain't a nutcase..._

Bobby leaned in closer, gripping Dean's arm tightly as the young man seem to shake with anger with each word the doctor spoke.

The physician smiled slightly, eyes taking in both men's concerned expressions.

"I am sure, with his family's support, he will get through this." With a final nod of his head, the doctor turned and moved toward the door, his voice echoing back over one shoulder, "Once he is settled in a room, I will send a nurse to take you through to him."

Tears glistened in Dean's eyelids as he slumped dejectedly back down against the tattered couch, guilt and anger coursing through his weary body.

"What the hell," he muttered.

"He'll be fine Dean, we'll make sure of it," Bobby murmured firmly as he patted Dean's jean clad kneecap, offering him what little reassurances that he could. He watched tentatively as Dean scrubbed the back of his hand across his damp eyes, shored up his shoulders, and pulled his emotions back in check.

"This shouldn't have happened." Dean whispered; his voice heavy with grief.

"No, but sometimes we can't control things, son."

Bobby shook his head, not sure what else he could say to make the young man forgive himself for something that really wasn't his fault. Just like his father before him, the kid was hard headed as hell.

**-0- **

Dean swallowed hard and lowered his head to rest in his hands, his palms pressed gingerly into his eye sockets. He had been sitting in this same chair for nearly four hours waiting for his brother to wake up. He raised his head and sighed as he peered through half mast lids at his pale sibling. The last three days had been a blur of emotions, loosing Sam, looking for Sam, getting Sam away from the crazy woman, and now waiting…endless waiting for Sam to wake up. He glanced across the hospital room to see Bobby sleeping uncomfortably in another unstable plastic chair, his neck falling limply to rest on one shoulder, his legs flung out disjointedly in front of him. _ Damn, the old man would be stiff when he woke up, what's the deal with hospitals and chairs anyway? _

A light whimper drew his attention immediately back to Sam's flushed face. He stood up and leaned inquisitively over his brother's lax body, his fingers ghosting through the too long chestnut bangs and pushing them back from his warm forehead. His hand lingered on Sam's shoulder, eyes looking attentively at his little brother's face. He watched as Sam's eyelashes fluttered, his unfocused hazels looking blankly up at him, then flickering shut again. _Is he waking up?_

"Sammy?"he whispered.

Sam moaned and turned his head slightly towards Dean's voice.

"Com'n bro, open those eyes for me." Dean encouraged.

Bobby's mind registered Dean's words and he quickly opened up his eyes. He yawned as he looked across at Dean. _Was Sam okay?_ He stood quickly, bones popping and snapping as he made his way to the opposite side of the bed.

Dean grinned at Bobby's stiff movements, "He's trying to wake up," the young hunter stated with conviction as his fingers once again tugged through Sam's bangs.

Bobby's firm hand grasped Sam's finger, his thumb rubbing lightly across the kid's palm. "Hey kid, you need to wake up now," he said softly.

Sam's head lolled against the pillow, his eyes squinting tightly then moving hastily beneath his closed eyelids.

"Sammy?" Dean said gently.

Wild hazels suddenly popped open as Sam arched forward off the bed and gasped for air, fear evident on his face.

"Whoa….whoa…easy, you're okay Sam. I'm right here." Dean consoled as his hands gripped both sides of Sam's face, cupping it soothingly in his fingers.

Sam's head rolled against Dean's shoulder as he looked confusedly up at his older brother.

"Wha…" he whispered shakily as Dean eased him back down against the pristine white sheets.

Dean's hands stayed firmly on Sam's shoulders, holding his little brother down against the bed.

Sam's eyes darted over to Bobby, the IV stand, his cast covered leg and back to Dean's face. His hand limply rose to tug at the nasal canal beneath his nose.

"Don't do that Sam, leave it."

Dean's hand guided Sam's back down to rest against his side.

"De'n?" the patient whispered thickly.

"Easy…Sam, you're okay, you're in the hospital, remember?"

Dean hand patted Sam's chest, fingers fidgeting with his brother's hospital gown as he looked at Sam with deep concern.

Sam looked puzzled, his eyelids slowly drooping as his breath eased back to a normal rhythm.

"It's okay Sammy, you can sleep now. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."


	17. Chapter 17

**So glad some of you are still with me. This story has been a blast to write and I hate to see it end. It seems to be winding down now though. Reviews are like chocolate, and want lots of that. So tell me what you think. -supernaturaldh-**

**A Million Little Pieces**

**By: supernaturaldh**

**Beta- Kokoda2007 **

**Chapter 17**

Dean could see Bobby Singer standing in the empty hallway, half a cup of cold coffee dangling from his lax fingers, eyes glaring intently at the two plain clothed detectives. He sighed, knowing eventually he was going to have to go out there and answer his own questions, not sure he even wanted to talk about the entire mess. It amazed him that something that happened so long ago had now come full circle and bit him and Sam both in the ass. _Who would have thought that falling in love with one Brianna Boyd would lead to all this devastation and death? _ He shifted uncomfortably in the chair and let his eyes fall away from the crack in the doorway to gaze at his sleeping brother. Leaning closer to the bed, he let his hand absently reach up and brush the too long bangs from Sam's pale face.

"I'm sorry Sammy," he murmured in a low voice.

It had been a rough night, Sam drifting in and out of consciousness, while he and Bobby kept vigil, offered comfort, and soothed the restless patient back to sleep. Dean was now sure that the repercussions of Sierra Boyd were going to take a long time for Sam to overcome and that thought alone really pissed him off. He didn't know who he was most angry at, Sierra, Howard, or himself for letting this whole thing happen to Sam, Sam who deserved none of it, Sam who wasn't even aware of his love affair with Brianna in the first place. _If only he hadn't talked to Brianna, let her break his heart in a million little pieces, then, none of this would've ever happened._ He chewed on his lower lip, eyes darting back to Bobby who was still engrossed in a long winded conversation with the policemen in the hall. _Why didn't Dad tell me the truth about Brianna? _ _I would've adjusted, realized that Brianna had died and not just kicked me to the curb. Damn John Winchester always talking in riddles, protecting us with secrets and lies. _ Dean watched his brother for a moment, thinking about how much control John Winchester had wielded over choices that had brought them here. He shook his head in disappointment and leaned forward against the bed. He gently squeezed Sam's slack fingers. _Karma is a bitch_ _sometimes, and unfortunately, this time, Sammy paid the price. _

**-0-**

Bobby shuffled slowly back into the hospital room, drawn features resting on his weary face.

"The cops won't be talking to you or Sam." He huffed out as he fell limply back against the hard plastic chair across from Dean.

"Really?" Dean's eyebrows arched up quizzically.

"Yeah, really." Bobby grinned smugly as he yanked off his base ball cap and mussed his fingers through his thinning hair.

Dean grinned in amazement, green eyes shining brightly at his old friend, "What'cha tell 'em?"

"Didn't have to say much, seems that Sierra went all postal several times before, on Howard no less, he was the reason she was in the State Mental Hospital."

"Huh…really, that explains why he was trying to locate her, guess he knew how crazy she could be."

"Yeah, I know he really wanted to help her, she was his daughter after all…family…well, it's important." Bobby sighed and resettled his ball cap back on his head. He gazed fixedly at Dean, observing the lines of worry and anguish adorning the young hunter's face. "You know you're not at fault here, kid."

Dean sucked in a rough gasp of air, guilt ridden jade eyes peering carefully at Bobby. He slowly relinquished his hold on Sam's hand, shuffled his feet, and gazed dejectedly down at the dirty linoleum floor.

"Yeah, but…." Dean stammered, tears pooling to his lids. "It should have been me she was terrorizing, not Sammy. He didn't do anything to her family."

"Neither did you son, neither did you – in her warped little world, she had to blame someone for her sister's death, you were just the scapegoat." Bobby stated in a reassuring tone.

"No, please don't," the low whimpered words were barely audible as they filtered up from the bed to Bobby and Dean's ears.

Dean glanced at Bobby and hastily brushed the tears from his eyelids. He moved in one large stride back to Sam's side.

"Sammy, you awake?" he whispered.

Dean gripped Sam gently by the shoulders as the unaware man moaned and moved erratically against the white sheets, body thrashing about, fighting unconsciously against Dean's steady grip.

"Whoa…easy Sammy…."

"Please don't," Sam groaned again.

"He's dreaming," Bobby stated as he watched Sam's pupils dart hastily beneath his closed eyelids.

The older man reached over to steady the writhing Winchester. He nodded at Dean. "Talk to him Dean, try and wake him up."

Sam bucked against the grasping fingers, fought against the darkness of his dreams.

"No, please ….Sierra…No…d…do…don't."

"Sammy!" Dean cupped his hand around Sam's cheek. "Sam, no one's going to hurt you; wake-up," he begged.

Sam struggled against Dean's grip as the horrors of the last few days flashed across his nightmare, a large tear drop cascaded from his closed eyelid to roll slowly down against his cheek.

Dean's thumb quickly brushed the tear away as he continued to encourage his little brother to rouse.

"It's okay, you're okay, come on Sammy, open your eyes…"

Sam drifted on a cloud of nothingness, floating between wakefulness and sleep. His nightmare was a confusing mass of terror and fear. It was dark, and he was alone. He could hear the shrill voice of Sierra Boyd whispering words around him. _"Your brother will pay for what he did to me and my sister. He'll pay." _ He fought to escape from his prison. The sound of hollow laughter filtered in around him as a yellow vile of liquid was plunged callously into his arm. _No, Dean…no, no, no, no, no..._ He struggled from the memories, he could see wild green eyes looking at him, red hot heat scorching and burning his tender skin. He fought harder, yanking and tugging at the binds that held him down. _Have to get away, let me go, please let me go… _ He could vaguely hear insistent mumblings above him, but he couldn't make out the words. _He had to save Dean, had to get away. _ His body tried to resurface from the nightmare, his limbs fighting against the holds that bound him. His chest panted as he struggled to pull in oxygen, to escape the horrid dream.

"Its okay Sammy, I gotcha' you're okay, wake up now, come on…" Dean demanded.

**-0-**

The first thing Sam was aware of was a warm hand on the back of his neck as soft muffled words made it to his ears. The familiar voice filtered through the fog and he was drawn to his brother's calming strength. _Dean? _ His movements slowly ceased as the voice brought him comfort and the overwhelming fear began to ebb away.

"D'n?" The weak, hoarse, voice mumbled.

"Sammy?" Dean's words cut through the haze, "You're okay, I gotcha."

Sam moaned slightly and tried to pull himself awake, his drained body not wanting to cooperate.

The older brother rested his chin on the top of Sam's mussed hair. He continued to murmur words of reassurance as he eased up on the bed, sitting next to Sam and tugging him up to rest against him.

"Sh...It's okay Sammy…it's okay."

Bobby relinquished his hold on Sam. He stood back, watching in sheer amazement as the older brother took control of the situation. He stared in awe as he saw the younger man's eyes flutter open and gaze sluggishly up at Dean, and then, just like clockwork, the younger brother relaxed, his breath evening out.

"Dean?" Sammy's voice whispered weakly as he blinked sluggishly through the too long bangs.

"I'm right here kiddo, right here. I'm not going anywhere."

Sam shivered, felling shaky and unsteady as he closed his tired eyes and leaned heavily against his big brother.

It was a private moment between them and Bobby turned away. He eased quietly from the hospital room, glancing back momentarily; he could vaguely hear Dean's voice cooing words against Sam's ear as his arms held the kid in a tight, unrelenting hug.

And Bobby smiled.

**-0-**


	18. Chapter 18

**A Million Little Pieces**

**By: supernaturaldh**

**Beta- Kokoda2007 **

**Chapter 18**

**Picking up the Pieces**

Sam jerked awake abruptly, eyes wild and incoherent as they darted around the dimly lit hospital room. He blinked through the cloud of sleep, his breath panting through clinched teeth; the memories of darkness, and pain, and Sierra flooding rapidly through his sluggish brain.

"Easy," a low voice whispered through the shadows.

He felt a warm hand rest against his damp forehead as it pushed back his sweat laden bangs. He turned his head slightly against the white pillow and blinked, wide eyes looking up at the hazy figure.

"You were dreaming Sammy, its okay, you're okay."

Dean's soft voice filtered through the dim room offering much needed comfort and reassurance to Sam's shivering frame. He swallowed down his emotions, and forced himself to search the supportive green eyes that looked attentively back at him. Slow calmness inundated his body and he relaxed against the sheets.

"Dean?" he said sleepily, more of a statement than a question.

"Yeah, I'm right here."

"Where's 'obby?" Sam's hoarse voice murmured as he gazed blankly around the empty room.

"It's after 1:00 a.m.; he went back to the motel to get some sleep."

"Oh…" Sam mumbled.

Dean's ankle wrapped around the plastic chair leg, pulling and scrapping it across the linoleum until it sat closer to Sam's bedside. He slumped down immediately to sit, fingers grasping an icy cup of water from the table and resting it against Sam's parched lips.

"Drink," the older brother ordered.

Sam obeyed. Thankful that Dean knew him, knew what he needed and when he needed it. He brought his shaky hands up to clutch ineffectively at the cup as he gulped greedily at the cool liquid.

Dean's fingers never faltered from the mug, but allowed Sam to clasp quivering hands atop his own, watching as the kid drank feverishly at the water.

"Easy, go slow; we don't want you to get sick."

Dean pulled the cup back.

Sam's tongue greedily licked at his parched lips as he looked longingly at the chilly cup of water.

"You can have more in a few minutes, okay?"

Dean smiled; Sam looked like he was five years old, overeager face staring wide eyed up at him.

The younger brother frowned, then nodded almost begrudged before releasing his wobbly grip on Dean's hands, reluctantly allowing the cup to be placed back on the table by the bed.

**-0- **

Bobby stared silently at Dean Winchesters face, the man looked beat. He gazed over at Sam, who was sound asleep again; cheek smashed up against the pillow, drool running a quite path from his parted lips to the pillow. The older man grinned and looked back at Dean.

It had been two days, and Bobby was worried about Dean, the kid seemingly bottling up his guilt, looking exhausted and totally worn out.

"Hey, Dean, you want to go catch some sleep at the motel? I'll stay here with Sam."

Dean's head rose from its position resting on his clinched fists, bloodshot eyes staring blankly over at Bobby.

"No, I told you, I'm not leaving him." Dean said almost heatedly.

Bobby's hands rose in surrender, "Hey," his open palms flashed out in front of his chest.

Dean rolled his tired eyes, "Sorry, didn't mean to snap at you."

Bobby yanked his ball cap from his head and fondled it with his fingers in his lap, contemplating his next words.

"You know Dean, if you don't talk to Sam; you're never going to get past this, either of you."

Dean gave Bobby a scrutinizing look. "Talk about what?"

Bobby huffed in disbelief.

"Oh hell, Dean, you know what I'm saying. Don't do this son; none of this is your fault. If you can't do it for yourself, then do it for Sam. You have to talk about this, and soon, all of it, so you can both move on."

Dean exhaled noisily and reached out to brush Sam's slightly mused bangs away from his sleeping face, one hand stroking Sam's hair gently.

"I know," he whispered.

Bobby stood and nodded, his work here was done for now, he moved silently from the room. "I'm going back to the motel, I'll be back later."

**-0-**

Dean had been setting idly, waiting, watching, and thinking about what Bobby had said for the last hour. He knew the senior hunter was right, he was always right. It was time he got everything out in the open and told Sammy the truth, told him how sorry he was that he had let this happen.

Sam's head rolled on the pillow, his eyelashes fluttering.

Dean reached out and laid his hand on Sam's arm.

"Sammy, you awake," concern evident in the older brothers tone.

Sam's eyes pulled lethargically open.

Dean's voice was hesitant as he whispered in a low even tone, "I'm sorry."

Sam's head rolled to look at Dean. "Wha'for?" The younger brother asked in earnest, fingers gripping the older brother's arm tightly by the wrist.

"For this…for Sierra…for what she did to you," Dean sighed heavily, voice faltering with his next words, "It's all my fault."

Sam frowned, "S'not you're vault…you did' know."

"Sam, I dated here twin sister, back when you were away at college. I thought she dumped me, but….well, she didn't dump me…she was killed in an accident…I didn't know that though. Dad didn't tell me….I'm sorry, her sister blamed me, came after your, she really wanted to hurt me"

Sam looked at him with confused, wide eyes. "Tw...win sis'r?"

Dean ducked his head, wearily looking at the floor, disappointment with himself evident on his face.

Sam blinked and attempted to pull his medicated thoughts together, he couldn't let Dean do this, blame himself. "It's al'ight." He whispered with conviction, somehow he had to make his brother understand, he didn't blame him, and it was all okay.

"S'not your fault, Dean, som'imes shit jus'appens," Sam slurred.

Dean's head tugged upward staring blankly at his little brother.

Sammy lay looking blankly at Dean, drugged to the guilds, lopsided grin resting on his lips.

Dean couldn't help but laugh.

"S'll right Dean." Sam mumbled again, his hand patting lightly on the top of Dean's arm in an uncoordinated, sloppy motion.

Dean's shook his head in disbelief. Sam harbored no grief against him for anything that had happened. His brother was unbelievable. He smiled as Sam's head slipped slowly toward the side.

"S'okay," Sam mumbled again fingers tightening momentarily on Dean's arm.

"Okay Sammy," Dean whispered as he gripped Sam's hand in his own, "Just go back to sleep little brother."

Dean pulled the sheet back up across Sam's chest and smiled. He watched as the patients eyes slowly closed, his little brother's fingers growing more lax with every moment, then silently slipping limply down against the bed.

**-0-**

Sam slept a lot that week; leg propped up against pillows, good drugs coursing through his veins, and Dean, well he forgave himself, Bobby was right, things that happened were obviously way out of his control.

The two older men spent most of their time laughing at Sam, at his goofy grins, his clumsy uncoordinated movements, and his unrelated comments about nothing, as Dean so eloquently put it, Sam and pain medication didn't mix and by the time Bobby Singer hit the road, the younger hunter was slowly on the mend. The dreams and nightmares still gripped him, but, they were getting better. If and when he did wake up, screaming, body drenched in a cold sweat, fear evident on his face; it was Dean that he reached for, Dean that made it all better and Dean who could make the nightmare go away.

Some seven days later, the doctors finally gave Sam his walking papers, allowing Dean to take him from the hospital. Although the youngest Winchester had whined and begged the last couple of days, Dean was adamant; Sam would stay until he was released by the doctor, end of story.


	19. Chapter 19

**A Million Little Pieces**

**By: supernaturaldh**

**Beta- Kokoda2007 **

**Chapter 19**

**Epilogue**

Dean laughed gingerly as the nurse rolled the wheel chair into the room, Sam's face screwing up in an unhappy little snarl.

"I don't need that." Sam said assuredly.

The nurse just raised her eyebrows and grinned, "Sorry, think you do, hospital policy and all."

Sam huffed out an exaggerated breath, "Deeeaaaannnn, see there, I told you to get me out of here for the last three days, but noooooo, got to stay till the doctor releases me, and now, I got to ride in some freak'n wheel chair… and where are my shoes, I told'cha to bring my shoes," Sam sighed loudly, "I hope you're happy…."

Dean mouth snarled up at the corner in a smug little grin, he darted his gaze from his heavily drugged little brother to the petite nurse gripping at the handles on the wheelchair.

"Sorry," he mouthed silently, "the drugs."

The nurse smiled and slightly nodded her head at his silent comment.

Dean watched as Sam moved slowly off the bed toward the wheel chair, his shaky hand gripping at the side of the wrinkled white hospital sheets.

"Are you talk'n 'bout me Dean," he muttered, "I told'cha I'm fine," the medicated brother slurred as he waivered on his socked feet, black boot cast wobbling back and forth.

Dean's hand immediately came up to steady Sam's motion, gripping him tightly by the elbow and pushing him gently into the seat.

"Th...Thanks," Sammy mumbled, blinking sleepy hazel eyes up at his older brother.

Dean patted him lightly on the kneecap and yanked up the doctors instructions from the table. He smiled warmly at the nurse.

The nurse grinned, "Well now, what you say we get you out of here Mr. Winchester."

**-0-**

Sam was curled up into a ball as he lay on his side, sound asleep on the double bed. The tattered blanket Dean had tossed over him was bunched up in his long fingers, just like he used to do as a small toddler, the only difference; Dean grinned, was that Sammy wasn't sucking his thumb like he did as a child. The older brother smirked to himself, eyes falling to the boot clad leg sticking precariously out from under the end of the cover. He had barely gotten his doped up little brother inside the motel room before exhaustion had claimed him and he feel into a fitful sleep, the trek from the hospital obviously taking its toll on his weary body.

Sam had vehemently denied being tired, saying he was back up to speed, ready to hit the road, but Dean knew better, he recognized the grey smudges under the sagging eyelids, the sluggish way his little brother acted, the paleness of his face, but mostly, the fact that Sam woke up in a cold sweat, the word Sierra always ghosting across his lips. Sammy was a true Winchester; hard headed as hell, denial obviously key to him dealing with what had happened in that cellar, what that crazy bitch had done to him.

The repercussions of Sierra's actions had led to a lot of nightmares for Sam, and a lot of sleepless nights for Dean. The brotherly talks, the comfort at all hours of the day were tiring, but necessary, and Dean knew it, had accepted his role in helping his little brother get through it all. He found himself wishing daily that the girl hadn't died in that fire, but lived, just so he could punish her, over and over again, make her pay for what she done to his little brother._ Isn't it ironic, _he thought_, I'm sure that was exactly how Sierra had felt about her sister Brianna –when she thought I had killed her, hurt her in some way… Life is just crazy._

The older brother sighed wearily; it had been a hard couple of weeks_._ He stared at Sam, still sleeping peacefully, than glanced back at the muted television, reruns of Bonanza catching his attention. He leaned further back against the headboard his tension slowly easing away. _Sam would be okay, they would be okay. Sam doesn't blame me….. _ That thought alone gave him comfort and he dozed, the hum of the television fading away into the background.

**-0- **

If Sam Winchester could have one wish right now, it would be to get out of this smelly motel room, to hit the road, to get back into action. It had been six days since his release from the hospital, and three days of Dean driving him nuts. He had to admit, the first couple of days he had spent sleeping, but now, well, he was awake and just about ready to climb the walls. _ Boot cast or not._ He shuffled around uncomfortably on the bunched up comforter, eyes darting over to his brother.

Dean was lounging on the opposite bed, Guns and Ammo Magazine perched in his hands, eyes fixated on the article that he was reading.

"I know you're not reading that stupid magazine again?" Sam huffed in disbelief.

"Excuse me?" Dean said questioningly as he looked over the tattered publication at Sam's disconcerting face.

"Oh come on man, every time I've woken up, you've been reading that magazine…I know it ain't that damn good."

Dean's eyebrows arched up in astonishment, "Oh, it's good," he grinned, then flipped the magazine around to show Sam the picture of the scantily clad girl in a camouflage bikini, gun slung over her shoulder, provocative grin resting on her pouty red lips.

Sam rolled his eyes incredulously.

Dean flung the magazine to the dirty carpet and pushed to the edge of the bed, "Okay brother, you think you're ready to get out of here for a little while?"

Sam smiled widely, face lighting up like a giddy child as he manically moved to stuff his good foot into his sneaker before his older brother changed his mind.

**-0- **

Mabel Finch glanced up from the coffee pot when the door swung open, the bell ringing loudly at the arrival of her newest customer at the Coffee Hut. Her blue-grey eyes brightened when she saw the young, sandy haired man standing just inside the doorway, fingers clutching tightly to the arm of a tall, brown haired kid with piercing hazel eyes.

Mabel smiled. _He found his brother, the kid she remembered from the day with that hatefully little girl…what was her name, Santana, Sonata…whatever… _

"I got it," the younger man muttered as he yanked his arm away from the reassuring grip and gimped heavily across the dining room to take a booth near the counter.

Dean followed Sam, his hand staying within grabbing distance of his little brother's arm.

Mabel eased up to the table, turned over the coffee mugs, and winked at Dean.

"So, this you're little brother?" the matronly woman asked happily.

Dean grinned vibrantly, green eyes sparkling up at Mabel. "Yep."

Sam looked curiously from Dean to the older woman. _Obviously, Dean knew her._

"Mable Finch, this is Sam Winchester." Dean said with giant smile.

Mable nodded, eyes glistening with unshed tears as she recalled her last meeting with the young man.

_Mabel watched the distraught man from the corner of her eye, trying not to look too obvious. His lost expression broke her heart. He was upset, she could tell that by the way he seemed to shore up his feelings, eyes blinking, nose sniffling as he sat silently in the booth. He looked anxious, and about on the verge of having a major meltdown. _

_She sighed and abruptly grabbed up a clean coffee cup, filling it to the brim._

"_Here," she nudged the strong black coffee in front of his face and eased in across from him in the booth. _

She recalled their conversation about his brother, remembering how distraught he seemed to be that day, and a lump welled up against her throat.

"_You're monies no good here."_

_She watched as he pocketed the ten and shuffled slowly toward the exit. He stopped, hand resting on the doorway, and looked forlornly back at her._

"_You go find that brother of yours – you find Sam -you hear me. And you bring him back here for some of my special coffee."_

_Mabel smiled._

"_Yes Ma'am." _

_Dean nodded slowly and gave her a wan smile as he eased out through the front door. _

Mable cleared her throat and focused her gaze on Sam, "So you here for some of my special coffee huh?" She reached her hand down and gripped Dean's fingers tightly in her own, motherly expression resting on her face.

Sam gaped in stunned surprise. _ Dean was letting this woman hold his hand, what was that all about? _

"Yes Mabel that would be great,"Dean said almost giddily, "Some of your specialcoffee for my little brother."

Mable smiled and patted the young man's hand beneath her own and Sam gazed curiously at them both.

**THE END!**

**A/N – Well, another one done. Just felt like it was time to end this one, you know the angst and limp Sam could go on forever, but alas, sometimes you just reach the end! Big Thanks to Kokoda2007 for the awesome beta job, and thanks for all the kind reviews from my readers. You guys are all wonderful, and make doing this so much fun. Until the next time- -supernaturaldh-**


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